Save Tonight
by xX-Misty
Summary: Sequel to Pure Morning: Gene has questions about two of his team and since there have been whispers and glimmers of starlight he needs to get to the bottom of them before things start falling apart again. With the nature of his world becoming more fragile for the first time in years, who or what is responsible and will those answers set things right again?
1. Prologue: Come Tomorrow

**Prologue**

Gene sat at his desk and listened to the ticking of the clock behind him. _Tick, tock, tick, tock,_ never stopping. _A bit like my world,_ he mused. The cycle went on and on; someone takes a trip to the pub, someone else turns up on the doorstep. Just days earlier he'd accompanied Alex as she'd taken two of her team for last orders and waved them goodbye on the steps of Luigi's. Gene didn't know them very well but he knew that they'd lived new lives in his world. He'd heard Alex praising them to the hilt on several occasions.

"Good on you, Bols," he'd grudgingly praised her as the doors closed and the tempting scent of Luigi's steak and chips pizza disappeared into the night air. He had to admit that she did her job well. Not just in terms of solving crimes and keeping the streets clean but in helping her recruits to reach their full potential, drink up then move on, and never with an ounce of fuss. There were never any stars or traumas, no gibbering wrecks hearing pub noises in their heads – when they were ready, they were ready. It was a little like when you realise you're in a dream.

He took his flask from his pocket and unscrewed the cap whilst he stared through the glass window in his door and eyed up Jake with something approaching suspicion. Something about his DS... no, his new DI, unsettled him. He swigged from his flask and gave a slight gasp as the scotch hit his taste buds at full force. Maybe it was just the time of year but he'd been feeling oddly reflective, which wasn't like him at all. Just that morning they'd turned their calendars over to December and argued over who got what when their advent calendars were opened. Officers and detectives had been running around the station with boxes of threadbare tinsel and wonky christmas trees, trying to get into the christmas spirit, whilst pieces of paper with sign ups for the various christmas parties that departments were holding had started to appear on noticeboards around the station.

Christmas was coming, and fast. Another year over. Time never sat down for a rest, it just kept marching on.

"So why," Gene mumbled, screwing his cap back on, "aren't _you_ marching with it?" he glared at Jake from a distance, "Hmm?" he couldn't see much from where he sat but he _could_ see the unmistakable sight of Marci with her crazy hair and bold clothing choices barrelling into the office and accosting Jake at his desk where he was finishing up for the day. The two of them became instantly engaged deep in conversation, just as they had been on their first day in the station, which coincidentally had been the first day for the duo Alex has waved goodbye to not so long ago. And yet the Scary Spice and Ronan Keating of the station showed no sign of being ready to pull up a stool at the saloon bar.

Gene had wondered if he was to blame. After all, he had a history of long-term lodgers. Chris and Ray, Susannah and Malcolm... when someone got their feet under a desk in CID they were there for eons. But when he'd talked his theory out with Alex she made him see it a different way.

" _They're not hanging on because of you, Gene. They're with you because they need extra time."_

And she was right. All the detectives who'd joined him needed more time and attention than Alex or Simon's recruits had. Chris and Ray were a pair of complete numbskulls but, with time, they came good. Susannah and Malcolm took years to hone their strengths but they left Gene's world stronger and ready to move on.

"What about you? Hmm?" Gene mumbled, eyeing Jake and Marci. It had been almost two years since their arrival and Gene felt like he knew little more about them now than he'd done on their first day.

Things were different to the way they used to be. Once there was a time that when work was done for the day Gene would say one word and his whole team would pack up and head out for a boozy night together. Whether at a pub, an Italian restaurant or a karaoke bar, it became a way for Gene to get to know his team inside and out. But things had changed, more or less from the time of Jake and Marci's arrival. The karaoke bar closed down, Robin joined the station and suddenly Gene and Alex found themselves enjoying more time at home alone, drinking wine in front of the fire whilst the younger crowd would head to the nightclub to dance the night away. Things were changing. It was inevitable, he supposed. And whilst sometimes he missed the camaraderie of old, he knew he wouldn't swap it for a night plying Bolly with booze before whisking her up the stairs and using his handcuffs for immoral purposes.

" _Gene."_

" _Argh!"_ Gene half-screamed as he fell out of his chair. After zoning out, staring at the glass window in his door, he'd been somewhat shocked by its sudden opening and the arrival of a surprise Simon.

" _Gene!_ Oh my god!" Simon rushed forward and tried to help Gene back onto his seat which only succeeded in getting his head jammed into the filing cabinet momentarily. "I'm _sorry!"_ Simon choked, "I didn't mean to scare you!"

 _"Nothing_ scares Gene Hunt," Gene huffed, "Except that jumper." He grabbed a handful of Simon's woollen monstrosity and yanked him back out of the filing cabinet.

Simon dusted himself down and tried to smooth out his jumper.

"I only came to ask if you fancied the pub tonight," he said indignantly which made Gene raise an eyebrow.

"Keep talking, Shoe-Boy," he advised.

Simon scowled, expressing his displeasure at the return of the Shoe-Boy nickname. It had filtered back into common usage over the past few weeks and wasn't becoming any the less annoying.

"Football's on," he continued, "European match. Free peanuts all night and pork scratchings for everyone every time the opposition concedes a goal."

Gene considered Simon's timely offer for a while. It seemed odd coming directly after his musings on the way that things had changed. Simon was, perhaps, the one colleague he would sometimes meet up with after work for a few pints and the occasional match on TV. He considered for the first time how Simon had always been the odd one out; floating from here to there, never really belonging to one group. Although he would sometimes go clubbing with the others Gene knew Simon had never really fitted in with what he thought of as the 'trendy crowd' or, as he'd dared to label them once, _"poofs with pierced arses"._ Once and only once, since Kim had been a whisker away from _giving_ him a piercing all of his own.

Sometimes Simon would join up with the clubbing crowd and sometimes he would go for a pint with Gene. Sometimes he'd go for a few drinks with Robin and Kim, or for a night out to the cinema or something with them, but that was it. He spent more nights at home than he did out on the town, and that was true going way back before James had made quiet nights at home a far more appealing prospect.

Gene noted that, since James had been living with Simon, their nights at the pub had pretty much ceased, and – grudgingly – he noted that he kind of missed them.

 _Maybe._

He turned to Simon and nodded decisively.

"Pub," he agreed.

Simon's face changed and accepted a smile.

"Great," he nodded, thrusting his hands in his pockets to look for his car keys, "pub."

Gene watched him turn and walk to the doorway before adding a condition.

"You're buying the first round," he challenged Simon.

Simon waved a hand in vague acceptance.

"Fine," he said as he passed through the door.

"And the last one," Gene added gruffly, making Simon stop and sigh. Eventually he waved his hand again, not bothering to look back.

The door closed behind him and Gene opened up his flask again.

"And all the ones in between," he mumbled, supping scotch again. He closed his eyes, returned the lid to his flask and leaned back in his chair. He could still see Jake and Marci talking outside. Whatever they had to talk about, it was taking some time, and Marci wasn't the kind of girl who liked staying late to dot _Is_ and cross _Ts._ He climbed out of his chair, flask still in hand, and wandered across to the door so he could watch them through the glass. "Two ruddy years and all I know about Dawson is that he owns more bloody Doctor Who underwear than he does file dividers," he opened the flask once again, "and _that's_ saying something."

~xXx~

"Come _on,"_ Marci begged again, "just me and you. A mad night of boozing and dancing. Just like the old day."

The feet of Jake's chair gave an unnerving screech as it slid backwards with one push of his feet, letting him stand up and grasp his work bag with one hand and a pile of papers with the other.

"I told you, Marci, I'm sorry, I can't," he whimpered, wrestling the papers into his bag, "this promotion came out of nowhere and I've got some serious work to do to get up to speed."

"We'll make it a celebration then," Marci tried, jiggling up and down on the spot a little, "to mark you getting the big ol' _D.I._ In front of your name," she seemed a little hyper, even for Marci, drawing out the letters in the air in front of his face with her finger, "that's what you wanted, wasn't it? Like, _forever?"_

Jake opened his mouth to reply but all that came out was a slightly sad sigh. It was true. Everything Marci had said was true. He'd been desperate for that title as far back as he could remember and had worked so hard for it that his files practically had their own toothbrush for the amount of times he'd shared his bed with them rather than with a person. He'd lived and died for that post and had never let anything get in his way before.

With another sigh he let himself consider the thought that he'd been trying not to dwell on that day.

" _What's changed?"_

 _Something_ had. That was all he knew. He closed his eyes as he realised it was probably _him._ Yeah, it was. It was _definitely_ him. His eyes opened and fixed on the papers in his open bag. Where once he'd been excited at the prospect of a night poring over files to find missing links and evidence, now all that remained was a feeling of emptiness and impending boredom.

He'd only joined the police force to follow in his father's footsteps, hoping it would give them some common ground but to talk about a common interest you'd still need to want to talk to the other person in the first place. And that was the problem; Jake and his father were poles apart.

Over the past year a lot had changed for Jake. The previous Christmas had seen him enter his first relationship. The part-time arrangement he shared with Robin suited him down to the ground; his work had always been his number one love interest so a part-time boyfriend who didn't mind sharing Jake with his work had suited him perfectly. He'd never felt any jealously toward Kim or the fact that she and Robin were beyond soul mates. He and Robin had fun, and they cared about each other. Even loved each other. But they weren't _in_ love, that was a very different matter and something Jake had never really felt before.

He flinched. _Before_. He let his eyes flicker to Marci just for a split second before focusing once again on his files, loading up some more into his bag. Best not to dwell on her for too long. Nor upon the cleavage that had almost swallowed him a moment ago. He growled slightly in frustration as he jammed another folder inside his bag. When Gene had put him forward for an internal promotion he'd jumped at it, but it had taken him a couple of weeks to realise that was because wanting to become a detective inspector had become a habit rather than a goal. He was so used to wanting it that he went through the motions like a clockwork toy. But by the time he'd sat through several interviews and Fletcher had arrived at his desk with a smile and an extended hand of congratulations he realised that his dream had wound down.

Maybe it was boredom. Maybe it was sharing his life with someone for the first time. Maybe it was being stabbed by a crazy old cat woman and fearing that he was gong to die. Maybe it was watching Gene and Alex getting married. Or maybe it was -

 _\- Something else..._

...whatever it was, _something_ had shown him a fact that he'd never expected to accept:

That there was more to life than work.

"Can't you take Marci?" he mumbled as he struggled with the zipper on his bag. He found a hand waving in front of his eyes.

"Uh, hello? I _am_ Marci?!" Marci reminded him.

Jake froze, panicking slightly.

"Did I say Marci?" he felt his voice crack, "I meant Shaz. Why don't you take Shaz?"

Marci's eyes fell downward.

"Yeah, well," she mumbled, "me and Shaz are over, so -"

"What?" Jake's eyes finally rested back on Marci as his heart rose in his chest and started to beat at double time. He wondered if he was going to have to shove it back into place. His mouth grew dry with extreme speed and he licked his lips as he blurted, "Why? What happened?"

Marci's expression was unreadable. Her smile stayed where it was but her eyes reflected a conflicting pool of emotions, none of which could Jake unravel from the rest. She moved the focus of her gaze ever so slightly so that she wasn't looking at him directly and then said slowly,

"Well, _because_."

Jake waited for more. Eventually it became clear that Marci really did feel like her sentence had reached its conclusion.

"That's it?"

"What?"

" _Well because?!"_ Jake ran his fingers through his hair, aware he was blushing just a little but not entirely aware why, "You can't just say that!"

Marci couldn't look at Jake any longer.

"Why not?"

"Because you two have been through too much for that!" Jake cried, "Christ, you've been on and off, hot and cold, but you always have a reason, even if you tell me you don't want to talk about it!"

"Alright, I don't want to talk about it," Marci said haughtily, jumping a step or so backward and swinging her bag over her shoulder, "I want to forget about it. So can we just go out, have some drinks and celebrate your big fat promotion?"

"How about celebrating you and Shaz apologising and making up?" Jake asked, although there was a little part of him that didn't quite mean it.

"Jake, it's not going to happen, OK?" Marci told him crossly.

"Who ended it?" Jake blurted before he could hold back his frankness.

"She did," Marci's voice rose and for the first time real emotion and distress came through her words and flashed in her eyes. Jake stared at her, his mouth falling slightly open as he did so. He tried to find the right words but they weren't coming out fast enough to stop him sounding like a floundering idiot.

"Marci," eventually he spoke, his voice quieter, "I'm so sorry."

Marci stared at the floor.

"Yeah, well," she mumbled.

"I _am,"_ Jake reached out but she evaded his hand, "really."

"Well it would probably have ended soon enough anyway," Marci said quietly in a tone Jake couldn't decipher. She finally looked back at him, detesting the pity on his face. "So let's just go out tonight, OK? Me and you, best friends forever."

Jake swallowed, his heart so torn. He truly was sorry to hear about Marci and Shaz splitting up but that little jealous voice kept chanting _"Good!"_ in a variety of silly voices in the back of his mind. He was also full of concern and couldn't work out what had gone so wrong, so quickly. He stared at her, the slight sadness in her expression covered by her curls which were tumbling over her downbeat expression. Perhaps a night out would give him a chance to find out what happened between them. Perhaps a night out would take his mind off the promotion he didn't want. Maybe it would take off his mind over the thing he _did_ want.

He had to physically shake himself to stop staring at Marci. Maybe a night on the town _was_ the answer. A night like they used to have, just to remind him that this was Marci, his best friend, not someone to masturbate over wistfully at night.

" _I've never done that!"_ he blurted before realising that Marci was staring at him like he'd lost every marble from his head. "What?" he swallowed, "I mean," What _did_ he mean? "OK," he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Alright, I give in." he looked at Marci and found her eyebrows raised expectantly, "let's go out."

"Yes," Marci's grin returned as she held her hand up for a high five that Jake almost missed. Marci didn't seem to mind too much though. "Alright," she hauled her bag up higher on her shoulder and picked up his bag with a groan. What was _in_ that thing? _Geoff?!_ "Alright," she lumped the bag into his hands and sent him reeling backward a few paces, "you get home, get your glad rags on, meet me at the club tonight. Eight o' clock. Don't be late."

"Wait, Marci!" He held up one hand and tried to keep hold of his bag with the other, "I was hoping you might give me a lift home."

Marci froze and Jake's request turned her expression upside down. A trail of goosebumps started at her wrists and ran all the way up to her shoulders before travelling across the back of her neck like a series of tiny ghostly footsteps.

"What?"

"I mean," he managed to pull the strap of his bag onto his shoulder, "I don't want to carry this all the way. I need to save my energy for keeping up with you on the dance floor later."

"I walked in this morning," Marci said, once again avoiding his gaze all to deftly.

"What?" Jake laughed, "Marci, you _hate_ walking!"

"I drank to much last night and didn't want to get stopped," Marci tried.

"Wrong," Jake frowned, "you were in all night, we spent two hours on the phone, talking about the Miller case."

"Look," Marci sighed, her hands in the air, "I don't want the Spanish inquisition, I just walked, OK?"

Jake frowned a little.

"OK," he said quietly.

"It's not illegal is it?"

Jake shook his head gently.

"No," he said quietly.

"Anyway, why do _you_ need a lift?" Marci asked him, "something wrong with your car?"

Jake felt his face flush with heat from one cheek to the other and this time he was the one who moved his gaze from Marci's.

"No," he said quietly, "I didn't feel like driving this morning either."

Marci stopped in the doorway and turned to Jake. She didn't live a million miles away from work and could walk at a push. Jake, on the other hand, was lost without his car.

"What the fuck?" she asked, "since when did you want to do a marathon to get to work?"

"Wasn't feeling well," Jake murmured, pushing past her.

"Hey, no, wait," Marci rolled her eyes and took chase, "Jake, wait for me!" she caught up to his side and grasped his arm with her hand, "I'm sorry, OK? I don't want to piss you off, I just thought it was a bit," she froze, just for a moment, "of a coincidence," she said quietly. The slightest whisper in the air sent a chill through her and she raised her other hand to her ear as though to catch the sound but Bammo and Poirot pushed through the doors behind them and marched down the corridor, laughing as they went, destroying the tension that filled the air around them. For a split second they looked at one another, each silently asking the other if they'd heard and felt the strangeness in the air but before either had a chance to speak Marci decided she didn't want to know.

"Never mind," she said quietly, "let's just both get going. If we're walking it we need to get a bloody move on. Not going to show up at the club in my work clothes." She sniffed her sleeve as though she could catch the scent of crooks in the fabric.

Jake hesitated. The whisper still rang inside his head but its memory was almost unobtainable now. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Fine," he said soberly, "let's get out this place." He turned to Marci and wagged his finger. "and you're buying the first round tonight."

Finally the tension faded and on Marci's face a smile broke through.

"Whenever don't I?" she grinned.

~xXx~

Gene opened the door and stared out at the emptying CID as Jake and Marci's voices disappeared into the ether. He leaned against the side of the doorway, his brow creased with frustration and a certain amount of worry. Something didn't feel right. There was a strange stillness in the air that only made the chills he felt travel down his arms grow stronger. He shuddered, glad no one was around to see that. What the hell was wrong with him?

" _Gene?"_

Immediately the chills dispersed and his eyes focused on the face peering around the doorway out of the office.

"Sight for a sore brain," Gene sighed.

Alex wasn't sure what he was talking about and she wasn't sure she wanted to know either. All she wanted to do was slip into the passenger seat as Gene drove them back to their home, then open a fresh bottle of red.

"Coming, Gene?" she asked.

Gene hesitated only for a moment. He needed time to stare at Bolly and take in the same sight that had greeted him so many times before. It offered him the antidote to all that staring at Jake and Marci and the blanket to keep away those chills. He nodded and strode towards her, hearing his door close behind him.

"And not a moment too soon," he commented.

 **~xXx~**

 _ **A/N: Hey everyone! Back again for another outing, this story is the sequel to Pure Morning and I'm writing this for NaNoWriMo. I'm still struggling badly with my health so my writing isn't going to return to the pace I used to write at. However I'm aiming to hit the 50,000 words of the competition by the end of the month, even if I can't get the fic finished too. Not saying I won't, just saying I can never guess what I'll be up to from day to day.**_

 _ **I've been excited about starting this fic since it sees a return to something that I've not had the opportunity to write for some time – all about the nature of Gene's world. I've had this story planned for a very long time and I really hope you'll enjoy watching it come to fruition.**_

 _ **Thank you for sticking with me and my stories – you are awesome! :)**_


	2. Chapter 1: Fight the Break of Dawn

**Chapter 1**

At the sound of the alarm Gene groaned, reached out and twatted Alex over the head.

" _Ouch!"_ She cried shrilly, covering her forehead to prevent another attack as Gene managed to open his eyes at the realisation that the alarm clock had developed skin and hair and stumbled backward.

"What the blood- _ARGH!"_ he cried as he felt the bed disappear from under him the moment he moved a centimetre backwards and after a few seconds he spent – he felt sure – scrambling in the air like a cartoon character he crashed shamefully to the floor.

" _Gene!"_ Alex cried, more alarmed than the device that was still beeping incessantly.

"The Gene genie's backside has taken a right ruddy battering," he growled angrily, rubbing his posterior.

The beeping stopped and a moment later Alex peered over the side of the bed to where Gene lay on the ground. His hair had all flopped forward and his cheeks had taken on a glow of shame. Torn between concern and amusement she desperately tried to hide a giggle.

" _Oh, Gene,"_ she sighed with a sly smile which only served to increase Gene's annoyance.

"Help me up, missus woman," he demanded, "I'm getting a flat bloody arse down here!"

Alex's hands reached over the bed like a rope ladder dangling from a rescue helicopter and with something of a struggle she helped him back to his feet and, eventually, back onto the bed. It took a few moments for them both to compose themselves; Gene from his fall and Alex from her barely contained laughter, but when they did they could both see what had happened.

"You didn't have to bring literal meaning to the phrase _getting out of the wrong side of bed_ , you know," Alex teased as Gene pulled the covers around him with annoyance.

"Hurumpf," he moaned, "must have dropped off after we," he felt things stirring under the covers, "took your ponsy Christmas chuck for a spin."

"It's called a _throw_ , Gene," Alex rolled her eyes, pulling the silky red fabric around them, "and it seemed to be a success."

"Until I slipped off the edge of the world and cracked me coccyx," Gene complained.

"One bed is not the edge of the world," Alex teased, checking him over to make sure he was OK, "Besides, the world's not flat," she poked her tongue out and pulled a face but Gene barely noticed.

"It _felt_ like the edge of the world," he moaned, "bloody Norah, I'm going to be walking like Geoff after a loofah sale." He fell silent for a few moments as Alex rubbed his back soothingly, more to shut him up than anything else, but his moaning masked a more serious concern that burned away like a leftover firework until it finally exploded with the comment; "must have blown me mind last night, Bollyknickers."

Alex looked around at him as her hand continued to rub his back.

"Hmm?" she mumbled distractedly.

Gene's face looked strangely grim, considering the words that came from his lips.

"I know real men like me good self have a reputation for knocking out the Zs after a round of ping pong in the downstairs department," he began which sent Alex reeling with horror.

" _Your euphemisms are getting worse by the day!"_ she cried as he continued.

"But I've never fallen asleep before enjoying a post-coital nightcap before," he said gruffly. He looked at Alex with an anxious expression that he tried to hide. "Must have blacked out pretty damn good to wake up on the wrong side of the bed."

"Wrong side of the bed describes you _perfectly_ this morning," Alex tried to dismiss Gene's words but in honesty she was thinking about it too. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Funny. I must have passed out too," she said, "I was exhausted. Drained."

"Either we need to ring the Guinness Book of bloody Records for the magnitude of last night's bonkage -" Gene began to Alex's horror, "or I need to get a few early nights."

Alex closed her eyes and leaned against Gene.

"Falling asleep after sex is nothing to be ashamed of," she began.

"I'm not bloody ashamed of it, woman!" Gene protested, "I'd be screaming it from the rooftops if I could; get a queue of 'em all around the neighbourhood, waiting for a go on the Gene Genie sex machinie." Even Gene had to cringe at that one. " _But_ ," he shivered. It was a cold morning, he knew that, but somehow Alex's poncy throw couldn't shove away the shivers of a different nature, "It was like someone pulled the plug on me. Out cold."

Alex tried to fend off the worries that were catching up with her.

"Well that makes both of us so it must have just been one of those nights," she said quietly.

"Me legs feel like lead weights," Gene bemoaned, "usually after a good night's kip I've recovered from last night's playtime."

"Yes, well, we're none of us getting any younger, are we?" Alex yawned and Gene made a mocking sound.

"Says the woman who brought her young body back from two thousand and _bollocks_ with her!" he hooted and Alex felt her cheeks reddening unexpectedly. She looked down at her body, briefly examining any part that the throw wasn't covering. On the outside she wore a younger woman's skin, but the person inside bore years of wisdom and experience at the hands of Gene's world.

"Doesn't mean I can't feel tired too," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

Gene scratched his head and closed his eyes.

"Must be the long nights getting to me," he mumbled, addressing the still pitch-black sky outside. As silence fell both he and Alex knew that Gene's concern wasn't exactly unfounded. Their tiredness had come a little out of the blue and wasn't normal for either of them. Even Alex had to admit that she still felt sleepy and weary, like she could fall asleep again at any moment and that moving was too much effort. With a deep sigh she pressed a couple of buttons on the alarm and grabbed Gene around the shoulders.

"Come on," she said quietly, "I've put the snooze on. Twenty more minutes sleep." She sighed, "The station can live without us for a little while."

Gene allowed Alex to wrap her arms around him and pull him close as they snuggled down in bed, but her last words played through her head.

"That's what worries me," he mumbled to himself before he drifted of into a deep, starry sleep.

~xXx~

" _There you are!"_

James froze but he didn't even turn around. He sat with his cup halfway up to his lips, unable to react. Usually the sound of Simon's voice set off a feeling of immense relief and happiness throughout his body. But that day, that morning, all he wanted was to slip away to work in peace.

" _James?"_

James closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. _Ignore him. Just ignore him. Stay silent._

It didn't come naturally to James. He wanted to turn to Simon and see the face that made living worthwhile. But something happened last night. Something that changed things for James.

" _Hey."_

A hand rested on his shoulder and he turned his head to the opposite side. That was childish. It was a nasty response, but he couldn't help it. Not after last night.

" _James! Oi!"_ Simon's patience had withered away finally, "are you listening to me?" He sat beside him at the kitchen table and slowly James turned his head so that he faced forward, not looking at Simon but not turned away either. "I wondered where you were. I woke up and you'd gone."

"I'm having breakfast," James said dryly.

"We usually do that together," Simon said, his voice starting to waver, "Is.. something..." he trailed off and watched James hang his head a little. His hair flopped forward and if it wasn't for his waves and glasses he would have looked so much like Robin, just a little older, that it almost took Simon back a little. He placed his elbow on the table and rested his head against it, his fingers snaking through his hair. "Is this about last night...?"

That did it. James's head snapped round so fast Simon feared he'd given himself whiplash.

"Of _course_ it's about last night!" James's tone was angrier than Simon had ever heard him. He didn't _do_ angry. Not since he'd broken free of the dark energy, at least. Keats would rage with every breath but James was usually timid and placid. The sudden change unnerved Simon and he drew back a little.

"Gene... should not have said what he said to you," he began but James's ironic smile and laughter stopped him from continuing.

" _You think?!"_ he cried. Finally he met Simon's stare. "Do you know how that made me feel, Simon?"

"Yeah, actually I do," Simon;'s own anger began to manifest, "because I was _there_ , remember? It was aimed at me as well."

"Water of a duck's back!" James dismissed and Simon returned his ironic laughter.

"Really?" he cried, "you think I like hearing all those fucking slurs, all the time?"

"That's not what I said!"

"No, you said they didn't bother me and that's wrong!" Simon snapped.

"Alright, I take that back," James said grudgingly, "but you're used to them."

"You _never_ get used to them!"

"You've heard them before!"

" _Yes!_ All my fucking _life!"_

"Well I _haven't!"_

"You don't _know_ if you have!" Simon cried, his arms waving around so fast James feared he was going to knock over some crockery, "you have no memory of your life before! Maybe you did. Maybe you've heard those names before and you don't remember."

"Even so, it was the first time that I _know_ of!" James cried, "out in public... because of _him!"_

"Who?" Simon asked unnecessarily.

" _Gene!"_ cried James, "You didn't even warn me he was going to be there."

"I didn't think it would matter," Simon protested, already knowing that was a weak defence.

"He hates my fucking _guts!"_

"He hates who you _were,"_ Simon told him sternly, "he doesn't _know_ who you are now. I wanted to give him a chance to get to know you."

"In a pub, in the middle of a football match, surrounded by around a hundred football supporters all spilling beer and cheering every time someone got within a hundred meters of the goal posts?"

"You said you wanted to start getting into football," Simon protested.

"Yeah, because _you_ are," James told him crossly, "I don't remember if I followed the game. I don't know if I had a team. I barely remember the rules! But I remember how many fucking backwards morons crawl out their cave every time a match is on."

"That's not fair!" Simon protested angrily, "what about me?"

"What about _Gene?!"_

"Gene's -" Simon began in an angry tone but a guilty stab in his chest stopped him and brought a slower, calmer tone to his words. He caught his breath a little and felt his body slowly deflate as he continued. "Gene's... not the caveman he used to be. Don't get me wrong, he has a long way to go," he said, knowing that was an understatement, "but he's evolving."

James's eyes flashed with fury and something else, something Simon couldn't read.

" _'Do you want this on the table,'"_ he mimicked Gene's accent to the best of his ability, _"or are you going to bend over and pour it in the back way?'"_

Simon closed his eyes and felt like someone had slapped him in the face. His mouth opened to respond but somehow nothing came out. The pub had been noisy and crowded and he'd barely heard a word Gene had said. He recalled _"back way"_ and a sudden change in James's expression but he hadn't asked and James hadn't explained. He licked his dry lips and looked at James.

"Is that why you left early?" he asked quietly.

"You _know_ that's not why," James said dryly. To Simon's alarm he noticed that James was trembling.

"I think it was an accident," he said weakly but James was already on his feet.

"He poured it right down my _back_ , Si," he hissed.

"It was _busy!_ Someone must have knocked him -"

" _Poof_ ," James growled.

Simon swallowed.

"What?"

"That's what he called me," James moved toward the door, "He hissed that in my ear and then poured beer down my back. And how do you think he knew?" he grabbed his jacket and started to pull it on roughly, "because someone was throwing snide remarks in my directions every two seconds, just loud enough for other people to hear. Other people..." he walked to the door and opened it, "just not _you_ , apparently."

"James, I didn't hear -"

"I know!" James cried, "you weren't _supposed_ to! But you could see. You could see what he was doing and you could see I was unhappy."

"I thought Gene was just being _Gene!"_

"Why does he get a pass for being an arsehole just because he's Gene?!" cried James.

"He doesn't!" Simon cried.

"Stop making excuses for him all the fucking time," James told him angrily, "just because he's your boss."

"He's more than my boss," Simon moaned but stopped abruptly. He stared at James. _Shit_. Somehow that was a subject that simply hadn't come up. Not once. Did he remember? Did he have any memory of Simon and Gene's genetic link? After all, Keats was the one who uncovered the truth and unveiled it in no small way. Simon could see from the look on James's face that the memory had disappeared along with everything else.

"What do you mean he's more than your boss?" he demanded, "you sucking him off after work?"

" _No!"_ Simon gagged, "James, don't be fucking stupid."

Even James had to admit that he didn't really think that. Not even for a moment. But he didn't know what Simon _did_ mean and Simon certainly wasn't explaining it.

"So he's your friend," he threw a hand in the air, "so what? Don't let him get away with this shit just because he's your pub buddy."

"It's not that," simon said weakly but he felt too drained to explain things. This wasn't the time, especially not whilst James was so angry. "Listen," he began, "we'll talk properly later. I mean, _really_ talk. Why don't you wait for me to grab something and we'll go to work together?"

"I'm going now," James said stiffly, "get ahead on my paperwork."

"I can drive you if you give me ten minutes," Simon offered but James's expression only grew angrier.

"Simon, it's just down the bloody road!" he cried, "it takes longer to get in the car and start it than it does just to just walk there. You're so fucking lazy sometimes, really, I just give up."

"What -?" Simon cried as the door slammed and James disappeared. He stood there, mouth slightly open, for the longest time, unable to comprehend the exchange they'd just shared. He knew there would be no talking to James until he'd cooled down, but he also knew that he had raised some very good points. Simon felt a little ashamed of himself. He'd known that it wasn't the best idea to invite both James and Gene to the pub without a warning but his intentions had been good. And he'd seen what was going on but ignored it. That was pretty damn shitty of him if he was honest with himself. Had he become complacent to Gene's ways?

" _Shit,"_ he put his hands to his head, closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. A creeping feeling up his back awoke a strange fear deep inside of him. He wasn't sure what it was but he really didn't like it. Something felt really wrong with the world that day, beyond his first fight with James. He did not like it, not one bit. He was just a little too frightened to open his eyes, for quite some time.

And by the time he did, the starlight had passed.

~xXx~

"Two drinks in, she's completely off her face and trying it on with three different bar staff," Robin continued as Kim tried three times to apply his eyeliner and every time found an expressive hand knocking her away by mistake, "it's like she's been on the vodka all night, she's totally pissed and won't even acknowledge Jake's a thing. He's chasing her around, asking if she's OK and all she does is hand him items of clothing, saying _'hold that_ ' before wiggling her bits and pieces at the barman with the stubble." He winced at the memory. "There was a wardrobe malfunction, assisted by her insistence that she could take her bra off without removing her top, then forgetting there was no bra on _underneath_ it whilst removing her top."

"Ouch," Kim commented. "Hold still!"

"Sorry," Robin apologised, holding still long enough for Kim to apply the eyeliner to one eye, then jiggling on the spot as she attempted in vain to apply the eyeliner to the other eye. "She told Jake she just wanted to have a good time and forget everyone," he pulled a face at the wrong moment which made Kim aim the eyeliner in the wrong place and have to grab a facial wipe to correct the mess quickly. "What the hell does she mean by that? I mean," he flinched as he moved too much in the direction of the eyeliner pencil and got poked in the eye, _"Ow!"_

"I _told_ you to hold still!" Kim cried exasperatedly.

"Sorry," Robin said insincerely. He held still for two seconds then began talking animatedly again, making Kim's job as difficult as possible. "I mean, I know she and Shaz have split up but I don't know why. Apparently _no_ one does, not even Jake. They've been split up for weeks and neither of them said anything to anyone. It's like a bloody secret service."

"Now," Kim began sternly as a lip liner loomed, "I need to you hold very still whilst I do this, OK?"

"OK," Robin agreed, thinking about remaining still for long enough that Kim actually managed to complete half of one lip when he started talking again, stiltedly, thinking that talking with his lips slightly curled over his teeth equated to holding still. " _Ut ot us ee ean a-out orge-in e-he-un?"_

" _Robin!"_ Kim cried.

"What?"

Kim took a deep breath, desperately trying to keep her cool but it really wasn't working.

"I _know_ you want to tell me every detail of your traumatic night out," she began patronizingly, "and I _want_ to hear all about it. But if you keep talking then I will never be able to finish your lips and we'll be late for work, _again!"_

"That isn't all my fault!" Robin protested, " _you_ were the one who wanted the extra round of toast yesterday!"

"And _you_ were the one who insisted on cooking a tin of beans to have _on_ it!" Kim pointed out, "now hold still." She tried a new tactic to distract Robin whilst she finished lining his lips and applying a pale gloss to them: this time, _she_ did the talking. "I'm sorry your night got spoilt. I know you thought it was going to be fun to have a night out with Jake, especially after he initially backed out with work stuff, but it can't have been any fun to watch him play butler to Scary Spice all night."

"I know, right?" Robin began, causing Kim to growl and Robin to stay truly still for the first time. He'd tripped over that line and knew the next word out of his mouth before his lips were done would be the one to make Kim turn into a heavily pierced werewolf.

"I guess both our nights got ruined," she carried on, "I didn't get to tell you the full story because I was so tired when you got home but basically me and Alex were," she stalled suddenly, blushing deeply, "Ma'am was helping me try on my maternity underwear," she said somewhat awkwardly, "when the next thing I knew the door flew open and Gene stormed in, reeling off every Simon-related insult I've ever heard plus a barrel-load of new ones, handed me my boots, told me he needed _time with the missus,"_ Kim's Gene impression made Robin giggle but thankfully his lips were finished so he was safe from harm, "and I was booted out into the cold, barefoot and horny."

" _Oh,"_ Robin coughed a little, "that's an interesting situation," he shuffled a little and tried to hide the smirk he wasn't sure Kim would want to see, considering the circumstances around her aborted tuesday night out. "So," he cleared his throat, "what did you do?"

"Busted down the door," Kim said casually, slipping the lid back on the lipgloss.

"No, really. How?"

Kim stood up and gathered up Robin's make-up.

"Back door wasn't too strong," she said casually, "got my stuff, kissed Alex and left."

"Bloody hell," Robin stared at her, "Are you joking?" he paused, "Kim, please tell me you're joking."

Kim merely shrugged and rubbed the slight bruise on the side of her arm.

"Come on," she said quickly, "if we get going now we might just make it before Gene imposes a latte tax on us both."

Robin wasn't sure what would happen if he received a latte tax but he didn't like the sound of that.

"Work awaits," he sighed, running his fingers through his fringe. The sky outside looked strangely dark, even for a cold winter day. He didn't envy Kim being the one to drive through that.

But as they left the flat and emerged into the open air, the darkness had parted and the day had dawned. Things felt more than a little strange, but they both ignored it. After all, what _did_ pass for normal in Gene's world?

 _ **~xXx~**_

 _ **A/N: Hi everyone. Just a quick note to apologise for the lack of updates. I actually have a few chapters written already but I became very sick a few days ago. It's going to take me some time to recover, again. I don't honestly know whether I am going to be able to get to the 50,000 word mark on NaNoWriMo, I'm not writing it off though. I'm extremely weak and just writing this A/N onto a chapter I'd written and already almost finished editing has exhausted me. But I don't like being beaten, so consider the race still onnnnnnn! I'm being well looked after and I'm a hardy idiot, so I'll be fine. I love you, my Lucy-girl xxxxxxxxxxxx and bloody hold still, would you?!**_


	3. Chapter 2: There's a Log on the Fire

**Chapter 2**

" _Hey!"_ Jake jogged to catch up with Marci as she walked across the car park, "Marci, _wait."_

Marci took a moment to hear Jake, a walkman giving her a chart-based accompaniment to her walk into work that morning but drowning out his voice. Eventually his insistent calling made her stop and turn round. She pulled the ear buds from her ears and smiled as he caught her up.

" _Hey,"_ there was an instance of shock on her face as her heart gave a little jump but she quickly wrote it off as a result of her brusque walk to work. "Where did _you_ get to last night?"

Jake's brow wrinkled and he moved back a little as he answered,

" _Me?_ More like who did _you_ get _off_ with?"

"What?" Marci was utterly confused as Jake continued.

"You were really putting it away last night."

 _"What?"_ Marci scowled, "I was not! I only had about three drinks all night."

"You must have had a few before you got there then," Jake and Marci's trot slowed to a halt as he continued, "you were totally off your head by the end of that second drink." He waited for Marci to slap her forehead and laugh; waited for some recall to cross her expression but to Marci it was like the previous night had never happened.

"Uh, _no,"_ she began with a slight tone of annoyance in her voice, "we had a couple of drinks and then," she hesitated for a moment. There was an alarming gap in her memory and she flinched as a slight throbbing came from her temples with the strain of trying to remember, "then you disappeared off somewhere... _oh!"_ her face clouded suddenly, "you went off with Robin!" she turned and started walking towards the station again, "so much for our night out together. _Just me and you."_

" _Marci!"_ Jake cried, needing to jog again to catch up with her, "Marci, _wait!_ That's not what happened and you _know_ it!"

"No, it _was,_ " Marci scowled, "you brought him along and spent half an hour dancing exclusively with him when it was supposed to be our night out!"

"It was a Tuesday!" Jake protested, as though that answered everything.

"So?"

"So that's, _you know.. our night,"_ he felt his cheeks reddening, "I'd already cancelled on him to go through those case files. I couldn't exactly fuck off to the club with someone else instead and not ask him along too. He'd think I was lying to him on purpose! How would _you_ feel?"

"Like I'd just been dumped by my best friend," Marci 's tight voice told him, "which was exactly how I _did_ feel."

"Marci, be fair! You didn't even remember that Robin was _there_ at first, _"_ Jake cried, "because you got so wasted -"

" _Excuse_ me?"

"...that you have no real memory of last night!"

"Listen," Marci's tone was starting to get a little frightening. It was more than her shared haircut that earned her the nickname of Scary Spice, "I'm the first to admit when I've had a few too many. I've admitted things to you that would make the tabloid press hide under the coffee table. I know when I'm hammered and last night was _not_ one of those _nights."_

"Fine," Jake said stiffly, "have it your way."

"I'm not _having it my way_ , I'm telling you how it was!" Marci cried.

"Oh yeah?" Jake became more animated with every word, "what about the mini strip-tease you did?"

Marci stared at Jake like he was talking another language.

"You what?"

"Or flirting with the entire bar staff of the bloody club in one go?"

"Jake, why the _hell_ would I be flirting with anyone who wasn't -" she froze and breathed in deeply before restructuring her question, "they're _strangers_ , I don't _fancy_ them, none of them are even that good looking. Why would I flirt with them?"

"Well, I don't know," Jake threw his hands in the air, "to get back at me for bringing my boyfriend? To get over Shaz?"

Jake's words forced something inside Marci snap sharply. She spun on the spot and began marching towards the door again at double speed.

"I'm _over_ Shaz," she lied tightly, "I went out to _forget_ about her."

"And everybody _else,_ so you claimed," Jake reminded her, "who else are you pissed off at?"

Marci swallowed and her pace slowed.

"No one," she said quietly, "I'm not pissed off."

"You were pissed off with the entire fucking _world_ ," Jake sighed and Marci finally trudged to a standstill just before they reached the entrance. Thinking on his words, she stared at the floor for a few moments then slowly turned back to Jake, barely looking him in the eye. There was a little flash of a memory poking her in the chest; the voice of an angry bouncer telling her the dance floor was reserved for people with clothes on, but the memory didn't really go anywhere. She closed her eyes and began a mumbled apology.

"Shit, I think I," she paused, dogged by another jagged memory of walking home before it was even chucking out time and telling some stubbly barman to piss off after he thought he was in with a chance. "Shit, Jake, I wasn't ... _drunk._ I mean," her cheeks grew hotter as she prepared to construct a plausible lie as close to the truth as possible, "it must have been my antibiotics."

Jake stared at her.

"What?" was all he could think to say.

"Got a bit of a sinus infection. You know, after that cold the other week. Wouldn't quite clear up so I went to the doctor's. He warned me not to drink but I forgot. I guess it made the drink go to my head."

Jake stared at her, completely confused by their entire conversation.

"You were on..." he paused, thinking about the way Marci's drunken behaviour had escalated so quickly after just one pint and how unlike Marci the whole sorry night had been. _"Huh."_ That explained how Marci, a seasoned drinker, could escalate from stone cold sober to _jiggling-at-a-barman_ so quickly. However, there were things that still didn't make sense to him. "Still, that's not normal drunken behaviour for you."

"Oh, come _off_ it, Jake," Marci gave a playful laugh but it felt incredibly forced, "you know some of the shit I've done because I've had a few too many. Wouldn't be the first time I got a bit amorous in the early hours."

"Not like _this,_ you haven't," Jake told her and Marci knew he was right but she didn't want to talk about it any more. The thought of it scared her.

"Look," she began, not quite meting his eye, "can we just stop talking about it? I feel terrible about this, especially thinking you were _lying_ about it. I've learnt my lesson, I'm never going to drink while I'm on medication again. It's not worth it. Not if I'm going to make a bloody idiot of myself." She bit her lip awkwardly. She truly meant it but the secrets she kept behind her words burned inside of her, sending her guilty conscience soaring, "Nor if I'm going to piss you off." She felt herself blushing again. "Sorry."

There was something awkward and stilted about Marci's apology to Jake. It didn't seem insincere, just, _incomplete._ Something wasn't right and he knew it.

"Marci?"

"I'm sorry for acting like an arsehole," Marci said quietly, "I forgot it was your night with Robin. And just so as you know, I'm pretty sure I went straight home after the part where a, um, part of me escaped from my top."

Jake froze and felt his face instantly redden. The tips of his ears started to burn and he couldn't quite meet Marci's eye.

"Yeah?" he said awkwardly.

Marci nodded.

"I didn't have a bar staff orgy in my lounge if that's what you've been thinking," she said, half sarcastically whilst half trying to make Jake laugh. It didn't work. "I went home by myself, went to bed early and woke up feeling all fine and dandy. Until _you_ put me to rights," she wasn't sure if she came off as rude or not but hadn't meant to. She extended her hand awkwardly. "Friends?"

Jake stared at her hand and swallowed nervously.

"I'm worried about you, Marci," he said softly.

Marci's smile wavered.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Jake knew there was more to Marci's strange behaviour and the disaster of an evening but this didn't seem like the best time to press it. There would be time later, or tomorrow, or some other time but Marci's expression seemed fragile right there and then and Jake knew when to drop a subject.

He reached out and gently shook Marci's hand, wishing that the niggling worries would go away. Marci, for her part, wished they would go away too. She had a great deal to think about, and knew it wasn't going to be easy to confront any part of it.

~xXx~

"I don't suppose you know what happened to this morning's chocolate from the advent calendar?" Robin asked cheekily as Kim drove them both to work. She glanced at him sideways with a slightly shifty expression, licked an errant crumb of chocolate from her bottom lip and told him;

"The baby ate it."

"Don't blame the baby, the baby is innocent!" Robin laughed.

"It won't be so innocent when you find out it's taken days three, four and five as well," Kim told him and they both smiled distantly, staring at the road ahead. It was a far cry from the previous year when both were going through the ordeal of discovering Kim's pregnancy that was more likely than not to have resulted from her time under the control of Keats. They both felt their current happiness was long overdue. This time life was finally on their side. Everything was going smoothly and everything was going to be OK.

Robin glanced to Kim's belly where her bump had become blatantly obvious to everyone. She'd surpassed the point of looking like she'd had a few too many of Robin's chocolate cakes and was very clearly into baby territory now. At five and a half months gone, her pregnancy had well and truly bypassed any of her losses and both she and Robin were starting to relax at long last.

"OK," Robin began, "so considering the baby's stolen the next three days from the advent calendar I'd better fill up on a few extra beans for lunch today." He noticed Kim's cheeks flushing a little. "Do you want to join me?"

Kim started to smile and opened her mouth to reply but stopped as her day's schedule came into her mind and she looked suddenly crestfallen.

"Oh," she sighed deeply, "I can't. Got to go down to Surrey today."

"Oh, _what?"_ Robin groaned, "didn't you tell them you've got a baby to lug with you everywhere now?"

"I'm still the consulting detective for that strange case," Kim sighed, "and that poor girl's no closer to being identified, nor the attacker found."

"Shit," Robin sighed and stared ahead again. "No missing persons reports? Nothing that matches up?"

"Nope," Kim sighed, "either her family don't know she's missing or they don't care." She turned left into the car park and approached her parking space. She wasn't even sure at what point she was _given_ one. Suddenly markings had appeared around the spot beside Gene's. _That_ had caused him a meltdown of epic proportions. Kim still relayed the tale to cheer up her friends when they were feeling low, her impression of Gene fairly convincing by now. She liked to dally by her car every now and then in the hope of catching Gene to remind him that she now drove his old Fiat and that her parking spot fell less under the catkins than his did.

"Where are you going from here?" he asked and Kim breathed out slowly as she halted the car.

"Well," she began, "I'm heading back to that art college today. Still think one of the students might have seen something. There's a reconstruction being arranged by Surrey police this week, hopefully that might jog a few memories." They both unbuckled themselves and stepped out of the car together, " _Damnit_. Gene's already here." She pouted for a moment but her expression soon changed as her gaze rose up the building and she caught a glimpse of Gene staring out of his office window. Her eyes lit up as he saw her and, with a huge grin, she started indicating the catkins over his car with a show of jazz hands and then motioned the clear sky above her own car before pointing to the catkins and making a cut-throat motion with her hand. Gene disappeared from view and a blind closed hastily, leaving Kim to laugh triumphantly. " _Happy days."_

~xXx~

" _Dawson!"_

Jake jumped ten miles in the air at the angry screech that came from Gene's office. At least that's what it felt like. He scrambled out of his seat and stood up straight, as though about to salute, then became acutely aware of the pencil hearts he'd doodled on what was supposed to be a photofit of a suspect and turned the paper over a split second before a furious Gene left his office and stomped across to Jake's desk.

"One injustice around here is enough for the day," Gene huffed, confusing Jake, "don't let another one happen." He shoved a scrap of paper under his nose. "Old snout of mine has a friend of a friend who knows Conrad Miller. He's heard some things confirming the link between Miller's old crowd and the Kellen boys. Get yourself some backup and get down there pronto-tonto."

Jake could barely catch his breath.

"Get down where?" he blinked, trying to work out what was going on in the aftermath of Hurricane Gene.

Gene thrust the scrap of paper a little closer to Jake's face.

"Try opening yer baby blues," he snapped.

Jake tried to focus on the words. He pulled his head back a little and finally saw some sort of address scrawled down in Gene's very worst handwriting along with a few other details he couldn't make out yet.

"How can I take backup?" he blathered, "you haven't assigned me a new partner yet!"

"I'm working on that," Gene said tightly, "in the meanwhile use yer ruddy loaf. Pick someone. _Anyone!_ Do an eeny-meeny for all I care."

Jake took the note from Gene and grabbed his jacket.

"Right," he nodded.

"And before you bugger off to the heady heights of Islington," Gene called as Jake started toward the door, "I need help from the canine division. And since I don't have access to a working Bat Signal you'll have to be me messenger instead."

Jake rolled his eyes.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"Put in a request for one mutant mutt and a handler," Gene told him, "we're going walkies tomorrow night."

Jake sighed internally but didn't let Gene see how tired he was growing of his smart remarks.

"Fine. No problem, Guv."

"And wipe the slobber off yer shoes before you meet my snout," Gene called after him, adding under his breath, "and I don't mean Batman's on this occasion."

" _Gene -"_

"Christ almighty," Gene growled as Simon rushed into the office just as Jake disappeared from sight.

"What did you say to James?"

"Shoe shops started doing home visits now?" Gene mumbled, his temples throbbing. Maybe he'd rushed around a little too much that morning? He wasn't prone to migraines but he supposed there was always a first time, and an early morning Shoebury was as likely a cause as any.

"I'm not joking around," Simon told him crossly.

Gene rubbed his eyes a little too roughly which made his vision blur a little

"I've not seen yer trouble and strife all morning, Dawson," he began, _"shit,_ I mean," he blinked a couple of times and Simon came finally back into focus, peering at Gene curiously as though he had something written on his forehead. " _Shoebury_. I meant Shoebury. Sorry. Simon."

"Gene, are you OK?" Simon asked, feeling unnerved and concerned by Gene's confusing behaviour but without even waiting for a reply he continued, "Never mind. No distraction techniques, you're not getting out of this that easily."

"I'm not getting out of _anything_ ," Gene told him, pulling at his collar, "except this jacket. Is it me or has the central heating gone on the _fry me alive_ setting?" He started to pace through to his office, with Simon in hot pursuit.

"No, it's fine," he frowned, smelling his armpit discretely to check for odour, "Gene, what's..." he trailed off as Gene hung up his jacket and reached for the scotch. "Looks like you've already had a skinful of that."

"First of the morning," Gene told Simon, pouring himself a small glassful. He grabbed a second glass and held it toward Simon. "You joining me or what?"

"Too early," Simon mumbled but the glass was already filled before he could feign his protest. He sighed and admitted defeat, slumping into a chair as Gene did the same. "Alright. _One drink."_

"Good man," Gene told him, downing his measure and filling his glass again. He turned toward the door and stared through the glass panel toward Jake's usual spot; the desk now empty with Jake setting off for his meeting with his old snout.

" _Gene,"_ Simon tried to get his attention.

"What do you think of Dawson?"

Gene's question came out of the blue. It took Simon aback rather. He shook his head slightly and stared at Gene, his mouth gaping just a little.

"Jake?" Simon shrugged and answered honestly, "I think he's a twat."

Gene nodded.

"Good man," he said again, topping up Simon's glass as though rewarding him.

"What's this about?" Simon frowned.

Gene hesitated. He remembered his paranoia from the night before; wondering what the deal was with Jake and Marci. What were they there for, why were they assigned to him... It all felt a little silly in the light of a new day. He closed his eyes.

"Nothing," he sighed, "One lion and his over-active imagination. That's all."

Simon sipped his scotch and put the glass back on the desk, all the while eyeing Gene warily. Something felt off and Gene was behaving even more strangely than usual.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

Gene hesitated.

"Nope," he said eventually.

Simon sighed.

"OK," he crossed his legs and folded his arms, "in that case; James."

Gene bristled and reached for his glass.

"Oh goody," he muttered.

"Gene," Simon said seriously, "I'm not going to let you destroy him, or us."

Gene gulped down his scotch and refilled his glass.

"I've not laid eyes on his ugly mush," he told Simon.

"Not since you drove him out the pub," Simon told him, "honestly, Gene, I thought you could behave yourself for _one night."_

"What the bleedin' hell am I supposed to have done now?" Gene protested.

"Suggesting he drinks his pints through his arse for a start," Simon growled, "saying things just loud enough that some of the less favourable clientele of the pub could hear, but so that _I_ couldn't." He found himself grabbing for the scotch, "I should have known better, I really should."

"Than to invite me to a fun night out with Beelzebub in brogues?" Gene countered, "Yes, you should!"

"I thought you could handle it!"

"Some warning wouldn't have gone amiss!" Gene barked, "Shoebury, he is on borrowed time here as it is. I told you he'd get a trial. Beyond the hours of nine to five I do _not_ have to give the time o' day to his bespectacled bollocks. Alright?"

Simon hesitated.

"No," he said, almost surprised by his conclusion, "No, James was right. I'm so used to hearing your insults and your fucking -"

" _Language!"_

" -Homophobic taunts that I turn a bloody blind eye to them," Simon continued, "Maybe I've just become desensitised to it. Or maybe it's because," he saw Gene going for the bottle and snatched it away like a concerned friend calling an intervention, " _maybe_ ," he continued, "it's because I know you don't actually mean it." He managed to fix Gene's stare, even though Gene tried hard to break it, "at least not any more."

"I'm not paying up for me rainbow brigade membership just yet," Gene bellowed.

"I never said you were, but you don't mean any of those things any more," Simon challenged him, " _do_ you? Not really. You're so used to flinging mud at everyone that you have to keep it up, to keep us all in line. Because that's _you,_ isn't it?" Gene remained silent, "that's the Gene Genie way. But you've learnt. 'Homo _phobic'_ was the right term for you. Because that's what you were." He paused; _"scared."_

"It takes more than a few limp wrists to scare me," Gene responded but it was more of a reflex reaction than anything.

"You _see?!"_ simon cried, spinning out of the chair, back to his feet, "you can't _help_ yourself! You have to make those comments all the time, even though you don't mean them. You told me once that Kim suggested being forced to work with so many people of... _alternative sexuality,"_ Simon tried to word things as carefully as possible, "was a learning curve. I think she was right. And you've learnt. I was your bloody best _man_ for fuck's sake! You know you're not going to get jumped by any man who'd anything less than a nought-point-one on the Kinsey scale and you're not going to get cooties from sitting too close to someone with a rainbow tattooed on their butt."

Gene narrowed his eyes.

"Does that have anything to do with Stringer?" he asked but Simon ignored his attempts at deflecting the conversation.

"You throw out homophobic insults out of habit. Because it's _expected_ of you. And because it's easy."

"It bloody isn't," Gene thumped down his fist, "if you think it's easy to keep coming up with original insults after all these years -"

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Simon told him, looming over the desk in a way that even Gene found slightly intimidating, "but what you forget, when you're flinging around insults that don't even mean anything, is that you're putting people in danger. Christ, I never thought I'd say this but you've progressed more than half the people I meet on a day to day basis! Those people in the pub last night... they called James a poof and they meant it. They poured beer down his back but could easily have done something _much_ worse, given half a chance. And now, every time he goes there, he'll be watching his bloody back because of _you."_

Gene stared up at Simon who was panting slightly, exhausted from his rant. He hesitated.

"Finished?"

Simon hesitated.

"No," he said quietly. He stepped back a little and tried to calm down. "You hate James because you still think of him as Keats. And I _get_ that. I know you never saw the human side of him before James won that fight. But Keats has gone." He walked towards the door and rested his fingers against the handle, "I'm sorry you can never get revenge on Keats. But don't take that out on James." He opened the door and jabbed a finger in Gene's direction, "James isn't going anywhere. You're going to have to get used to it." A quiver of fear burst through his unexpected bravado and he added, _"Guv,"_ in an attempt at placating the anger that he could see bubbling under through the creases on Gene's brow. He hesitated for a second, then turned and closed the door, not quite believing that he'd stood up to Gene the way he had.

As Gene stared at the closing door he reached for the scotch but didn't pour any. He felt somewhat woozy suddenly, squinted and rested a palm to his forehead. Simon's tirade had come out of the blue but Gene had to admit that he'd deserved it. Simon had touched several very raw nerves. James was getting the brunt of Gene's anger, it was true, but there was more to it than that.

" _Bastard isn't good enough for my son,"_ he muttered under his breath, embarrassed.

The first time Gene had ever felt like a father was the day Simon woke up from his coma the year before.

This, he realised, just might be the second.

 **~xXx~**

 _ **A/N: Recovering from a serious illness, please forgive any mistakes and typos, can't see very well at the moment**_


	4. Chapter 3: All We Need is Candlelight

**Chapter 3**

 _ **A/N: Merry Christmas! As a special festive treat I'm uploading TWO chapters today. Watch for the second one later!**_

 **~xXx~**

Kim wasn't altogether surprised to find Em sharpening pencils as she walked through the Serious Sexual Crimes office to reach her own personal one. She did, however, feel strangely relieved.

"Em," she began, "hi."

Em turned around, leaving a trail of sharpenings across her lap. She looked increasingly drained and haggard as the days ticked by and her stay in a strange world became longer and longer. Kim felt a pang of guilt. She no better knew how to help Em now than she did the day they'd collided in the entrance to an alleyway in Surrey. She'd spoken to Robin and she'd spoken to Alex about it and both had reassured her that there was no magic formula; that she was doing just fine, but there was something more that Kim just couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Good morning, Ma'am," Em said quietly.

She'd lost something, Kim noted. There had been a fight and a kind of denial about her when she arrived in the world. She'd been determined to get out; get home, get back to whoever or whatever she pined for, day after day. Kim wasn't sure she was allowed to ask. They'd had a couple of awkward conversations some months ago that Kim wasn't entirely sure she was allowed to have with a 'floater', as Gene would put it. But then life had gotten in the way. Kim had babysat CID for a month whilst Gene and Alex were on their honeymoon, then she and Robin had been caught up in their happy news and eventually she'd found so much space put between those conversations and where they were now that it never seemed like the right time to bring things up again and Em, for her part, had stayed silent too.

"You don't look well," Kim commented and Em looked away. She always looked pale but her skin seemed to be fading more toward snow white than anything now. "Have you eaten?" She watched Em look away awkwardly and realised she was going to have to rephrase her question. "When did you last eat?"

"I'm OK, Ma'am," Em said quietly, "I'll have something later."

"No, you won't," Kim said, not sure whether she was talking to Em or to herself. She could understand why Em had been placed under her care because they shared a lot in common and watching Em was like being able to evaluate herself from a distance. Strangely she felt like she'd learnt more about herself through Em's arrival than _Em_ had managed to learn. _Whose bloody journey is this anyway?_ She wondered to herself. She sighed, realising that Em wouldn't eat unless forced. That was Kim 50% of the time, too. When low or depressed she'd either eat everything in a hundred mile radius or forget food was an option. "Come on," she said, grabbing the denim jacket hanging up by the door and throwing it to Em who just barely caught it, "you're coming with me."

Em looked from Kim to the jacket with suspicion.

"Why? Where are we going?" she asked.

"Surrey," Kim told her and immediately the remaining colour washed out of Em's cheeks, "by way of Burger King."

Em smiled thinly, torn insanely between something she'd give anything to do and something she would do anything to avoid.

"That's OK," she said eventually, "I'm fine here."

"Nope," Kim said decisively, "I made you a promise."

Em glanced at her with confusion in her eyes.

"What promise?"

"On the night we don't talk about," Kim said uncomfortably, her words invoking an identical reaction from Em who put one hand to her mouth involuntarily.

"Oh," she mumbled.

"I promised I wouldn't let you fade away to nothing, so get up and get moving," Kim told her.

Em very slowly pushed back on her chair and got to her feet, hauling up her jeans with one hand as they started slipping down and trying to slip her jacket on with the other.

"Why Surrey?" she moaned, "I told you, I don't want to go back there again."

"I might need you," Kim said, "Navigation."

Em finished hauling on her jacket and pulled at the other side of her jeans.

"I can't drive, I'll be no good with maps," she said anxiously.

"I'm not talking about the roads, I mean around the art college," Kim told her which struck panic deep into Em.

"What?" she breathed.

"Don't worry," Kim tried to reassure her, "It's not a long visit. Just need to give one more appeal for -" as she spoke there was a strange buzz in the air and the room darkened momentarily. Both Kim and Em looked around as though expecting to find an answer to the sudden darkness. Nether wanted to admit it but both felt strangely haunted and two hearts started to race. There was a strange glimmering across the room, then a little closer. Then one by one the emergency lights came on, followed by the normal glow from the checkerboard above them.

Em swallowed and tried to collect herself. She took a deep breath and told herself to stop being stupid and calm down. A second dipping of the lights sealed it. She clutched her seat and slipped back into it.

"Thanks," she said croakily, "but I think I'm going to stay here."

"You want to stay _where_ the power's freaking out instead of leaving it for a while?" Kim asked but Em wasn't joking.

"That was like the thunder sound effect coming on after the name of the baddie is said out loud at a pantomime," she said, "I know a bad omen when I see one."

"I don't believe in omens," Kim lied quietly.

Em shrugged.

"Me nether."

Kim hesitated, looking at Em's pale face. What she'd wanted more than anything was an opportunity to talk to Em after neglecting her for so long and to make sure she ate but she could also see how dragging her back to the town where she arrived – the same one that clearly caused her pain to remember – was a tactless move on her part. She had come a long way from the gobby ladette who'd arrived in the middle of a hot, sweaty rave in 1995 but sometimes she still managed to put her big, clunky boots right inside her big mouth.

"OK," she said quietly with a slightly awkward smile, "you're off the hook. I'll send someone in with some extra pencils. And a snack." she stepped toward the door, "make sure you eat it."

Em's smile was nervous and haunted.

"Yes, ma'am," she promised and watched Kim leave the room.

Left alone in the flickering light with memories of years ago she could feel a headache starting. Her brain was doing everything it could to shut out moments from 1998, the first time around. Kim was going to walk head-first into them.

~xXx~

"Go here, go there, you want a bloody slave, not a new detective inspect- _ARGH!"_ Jake squealed as he crashed full force into a uniformed officer in the doorway to the canine division. He stumbled backwards and landed on his backside as he heard a familiar voice cry out,

" _Oh my god! I'm so sorry!_ Wa- _Jake?!"_

"Shaz," Jake scrambled to his feet feeling embarrassed and awkward, "Shit, I'm sorry."

"I wasn't looking where I was going," Shaz said uncomfortably, "sorry. Are you OK?"

"Me? Yeah, yeah," he dusted off the back of his trousers and picked up a pen that had fallen from his pocket, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Shaz said with a stiff smile, "sorry." she picked up the folder she'd been carrying and scrambled to return all of its contents into the folder.

"Um," Jake began, feeling more awkward by the second as shaz looked up and him and knew immediately what he was about to ask. He could see her bristle straight away as she collected the last of the papers and got to her feet.

"Just _don't,_ Jake."

"I haven't said anything!" Jake protested but Shaz's scowl halted him.

"If you want to know why I broke up with Marci ask _her_ , not me."

"Wait," Jake felt a strange wave of heat wash over his face, "what do you mean _you_ broke it off with her?" He swallowed. He'd somehow assumed it was Marci who'd done the breaking up. He scratched his head furiously, "I thought -"

"Whatever you thought, it's wrong," Shaz said with real disappointment tainting her voice. She bowed her head and began to exit the office, despite Jake calling after her.

"Shaz! Please, I'm worried about her!"

" _So am I!"_ was the last thing Shaz called back before she was out of ear's reach and Jake crashed back against the wall.

"Fuck," he cursed. He'd blown it,. His one chance to get the real story and he'd blown his chance.

" _Jake?"_

Jake opened his eyes. Across the room, Robin was standing with a box of dog treats.

" _Ohh,_ Rob," he sighed, quickly crossing the room, "thank _god."_

He stopped just short of collapsing into Robins arms, which was what Robin feared was about to happen. He was picturing dog treats flying through the air, as far as the eye could see.

"What's happened?" Robin asked, somewhat panicked. He watched Jake close his eyes and press his hand to his forehead.

"I just saw Shaz," he sighed deeply, "I crashed into her. Neither of us were looking where we were going." he opened his eyes. "I asked her about Marci."

"I asked her earlier too," Robin confessed quietly.

"Did you?" Robin nodded, "did she say anything?"

"Told me to piss off," Robin told him, "aside from that," he shook his head, "whatever's happened, Shaz thinks it's Marci's private business. She's not going to tell."

"And Marci's being tight lipped as well," Jake said softly, "she pretty much denied last night happened too, like she had no memory of it. Claims she was on antibiotics."

Robin shrugged.

"Could be true," he said, even though he thought that was unlikely.

"Shaz said something that's scared the hell out of me though," Jake confessed and Robin leaned closer.

"What?" he asked gently.

Jake looked him in the eye.

"She said she's worried about Marci too," he told Robin, "which means I'm not being paranoid."

Robin nodded slowly.

"Add me to that list," he said quietly.

Jake closed his eyes and rubbed his aching temples back and forth. He felt tired, almost like he'd been up for hours already. He didn't know why but he felt drained to the roots. He didn't have the time or energy to give Marci's relationship a full post-mortem. He had to get on with his job. Despite everything, he hadn't forgotten his duties. He looked back at Robin and began,

"Listen, I can't think about this more right now. The Guv sent me. He needs to book a handler and a dog."

"What for?" Robin asked.

"Didn't say."

Robin rolled his eyes.

"Right," he sighed, "what he means is, _go get Robin because I can't be arsed to order this through the proper channels."_

Jake smiled, despite everything.

"Sorry," he said with a quiet laugh.

Robin parked the dog treats on a nearby filing cabinet and walked toward the door.

"No time like the present," he began, "you coming?"

"Uh," Jake hesitated, he chewed on his lip for a second, "I can't. I've got to go and meet a snout."

"No problem," smiled Robin, "see you at lunchtime maybe?"

Jake shrugged.

"Maybe?" he said, not really sure what would happen by that point, "I'll try." he brushed Robin's hand gently as he walked by. "Sere you later, Rob. Good luck with you know who."

"The filing cabinet awaits," Robin smiled as he departed and Jake hung back for a few moments. There was a twinge of guilt as he finally started walking in the same direction as Robin, hanging back a little, walking as slowly as he dared without being taken over by the old bat with the colander as she picked up her latest shipment of sprouts.

" _I'm only doing what you told me to, Guv,"_ Jake muttered to himself, heading in the direction of CID but stopping at the office beside the canteen instead. He knocked very gently on the door and peered inside.

The room was small with one very high window that shed very little light and a desk that had room for little besides the computer that stood upon it. Sitting in front of it was a shock of black, curly hair and a sexy pair of legs beneath the desk. Jake coughed as he tried to drown out that thought and Marci spun around in her chair, her hand pressed flat to the desk.

"God, Jake, you nearly gave me a heart attack," she gasped, genuinely flustered by his arrival. She looked around, not sure what to say. "I'm sorry, there's no spare chair -"

"That's OK, I'm not stopping," Jake assured her, "and neither are you."

Marci frowned.

"What?"

"I need back up," Jake told her, "The Guv told me to find someone. I'm meeting one of his old snouts. He's not assigned me a new partner yet, so..." he trailed off, waiting for Marci's response but she still seemed shell-shocked by his sudden arrival. "Sorry. I'm sorry, I suppose I've jumped ahead of myself, really. You're probably busy." He felt his cheeks burning and his spirits falling. "I'll find someone else."

"No, wait," Marci swallowed, trying to calm down from her shock, "Jake, I'm sorry about this morning. And last night," She watched Jake's expression changing slowly from embarrassment and disappointment into a familiar smile.

"It's OK -"

"It's not," Marci flinched as she remembered flashes of the night before. They'd been slowly returning to her that morning. "I'm sorry. I-I think my break up got to me more than I'm admitting."

Jake's expression changed once again this time of one of sympathy. Or was it pity? It was a hard call.

"Hey, Marci, it's OK," he said, "I'm just worried about you."

Marci couldn't quite meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "the last thing I wanted was to make you worry. I'm OK, really. Well," she closed her eyes, "not _OK_. But I will be alright."

Jake bit his lip.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" he asked and Marci shook her head.

"No," she said simply, her expression changed like someone had flipped a switch. "So," she began anew, "what's this snout got to say for himself? Him? Her?"

"No idea," Jake shrugged, "Gene's palming all his unwanted crap off on me since I got the promotion. All I have is an address and a nickname."

"Well," Marci began, "There's only one way to find out. You go and start up the car; I'll save these proofs and be out in five minutes."

Jake felt a smile creep across his face. For the first time in a while he felt a buzz of excitement. He wasn't sure exactly what caused it; the thought of being back out there instead of staring at a desk, the thought of being back on a case with Marci, Marci -

 _Shit._ He needed to focus.

"Jake?"

"Yes," Jake snapped back into action, "I'll do that." he smiled fully for the first time. "Don't be long. I saw colander-features coming by with a huge vat of the green stuff. You're going to get gassed by the smell any minute now."

"Make that _two_ minutes then," Marci told him and smiled as she watched him leave. To her surprise she felt her cheeks burning and there was a strange grin she couldn't quite fight but it started to fade as she spun slowly around to face the desk again. She lifted her palm. Capsules sat on the desk and she felt sick at the sight of them. What the _fuck_ was she doing to herself? To her life? To _Jake?_ She'd already lost Shaz, she was in danger of losing her very oldest, dearest friend too.

" _It stops, right here,"_ she swept the capsules up with her hand, "right now." she grasped the drawer handle and yanked her drawer open. Inside she rummaged around until she found a pot of paper clips and dropped them inside, covering them up with clips of various colours and sizes. She popped the lid back on, dropped the pot back in the drawer and closed it quickly. She'd done this once before and she'd been in much deeper back then. She could do it again. She knew she could.

As she jumped to her feet and slipped her jacket on the lights dimmed. They'd been up and down all morning. She felt thankful her computer had stayed on and she hadn't lost her work. Still, it was going to be a relief to get out of there for a while.

The room lit up again with twinkling light as she left it and turned the corner.

But the electrics stayed off.


	5. Chapter 4: To Take Me Away

**Chapter 4**

 **A/N: This is actually the second chapter I've uploaded today so please go back and check out chapter 3 if you've missed it!**

 **~xXx~**

Gene spun around in his chair, pulling faces. He didn't even realise what he was doing. It was a habit he'd picked up, any time he was concentrating hard on something his face started contorting into all kinds of strange expressions. Jake had been absent from the office for a while and Gene's head had started running over and over the situation until a wave of curiosity overcame him and he hauled himself out of his chair.

"Something's not right with you, Dawson," he mumbled, moving swiftly to one of his filing cabinets, "and I'm not talking about yer taste in sci fi novelty boxers." He shuddered, adding silently that the boxers were probably number two on that list. He pulled out the middle drawer and began flicking through files until he reached the D section and his fingers closed around a particular folder. He pulled it up just enough to see the words _"Dawson: J"_ staring back at him. He looked around guiltily, like a kid shoving his hand into the biscuit tin without permission, then realised how stupid that was. This was his office, his department and his files.

He pulled out the folder then flicked through to the F section which was further back and harder to reach. He just about made out the word ' _Fell_ ' and plucked out a file, only to find the full sticker read " _Fell Over Colander On Stairs"_ and he growled furiously.

"Bloody health and safety," he muttered, grabbing the file and tossing it to the ground. He wished he didn't hate James so much, that way he might have considered borrowing him to sort his own filing out the way he had Simon's.

He began to rummage again and this time found the correct folder. _"FELL: M"_ which he plucked out, closing the cabinet with his backside.

"Right," he mumbled, carrying them back to his desk which he tossed them onto with a satisfying 'plop' sound, "what secrets do Fenchurch East's greatest Top of the Pops crime fighting duo have in store for me?"

He opened Jake's file first but before he'd taken more than a cursory glance at his ID photo he cold hear footsteps approaching and closed the file abruptly. His eyes rose as Robin entered, the door opening at his presence which ruffled Gene's feathers whilst simultaneously freaking Robin out completely.

"Gene!" he gave a little squeak, "tell your doors not to do that!"

"The Gene Genie does not talk to inanimate objects," Gene snapped, "Much less ask them for a bloody favour!"

"Yes you do," Robin frowned, "I've seen you talking to your car!"

Gene folded his arms.

"She," he began, "is not an inanimate object."

Robin rolled his eyes as his shock began to fade and his pulse returned to normal after the door's little scare. He knew better than to argue with Gene where cars were concerned so he gave up on that line of questioning and began,

"Jake told me you need the dogs."

Gene bristled a little at the mention of Jake. He surreptitiously moved his hand to cover Jake's name on the file in front of him and cleared his throat.

"Doing you a favour," Gene told him, "taking one of those flea machines off yer hands for a day."

Robin rolled his eyes.

"Brief me on the situation and I'll do what I can," he sighed.

Gene nodded to the empty chair.

"Sit down, Batman," he told him, "rest yer cape for a minute or two."

Robin scowled but sank into the chair regardless. His ankles were swollen and the station's nurse hadn't been very sympathetic about his sympathetic pregnancy. He had received a free bedpan, which was a plus. On the downside, that was only because she'd tossed it at him to prevent him coming back in the room after she'd thrown him out three times.

"Jake says you didn't pass on any details," he sighed.

Gene hesitated. He couldn't remember if he'd briefed Jake on the situation or not. That worried Gene a little, if he was honest. His memory was failing him. That had never happened before. He must have just been tired. Still exhausted from the night before. At least, that was the most comforting guess he could make.

"Information from three independent sources confirm the Kellen Boys are back in business, with a brand spanking new set of acquaintances. Tomorrow night we're going to stop them becoming bosom buddies."

"What do you need the dogs for?"

"Rumour has it there's a consignment of toys arriving with boxes of fun accessories to boot," Gene grabbed up Jake's file and tossed them into a drawer, _out of sight and mind,_ "nothing like getting a dual nationality passport with yer _wet-the-bed dolly surprise."_

"Right," Robin nodded slowly, "so they've been printing."

"Passports, documents, birth certificates... basically yer average _get out of jail free_ card for anyone who fancies a trip across the ocean instead of a visit at her majesty's pleasure," Gene continued, "but a little birdy says they've got a nice little side line going in herbal supplements too."

Robin nodded.

"Right," he agreed, "fax me down the details. Time, place... leave the rest to me."

Gene leaned back as Robin stood up and walked to the door. He hesitated but there was a burning question in the back of his mind, and one that wouldn't be silent.

"See much of my new DI these days, do you?"

Robin hesitated, his arm reaching out for the handle of the door. He glanced back with a frown.

"Yeah?" he said, questioningly, "is that a trick question?"

Gene could think of at least five different smart-arsed replies but put them on hold for a moment.

"You met the family yet?" he asked in an extremely awkward fashion and Robin folded his arms.

"Are you trying to be funny?" he asked.

"No funnier than your face," Gene couldn't resist throwing out an insult but Robin wasn't in the mood. He turned back to the door and started to open it but Gene spoke again before he could disappear. "Just wondered if the rest of his brood sit around in their Doctor Spock underpants for dinner, too."

"Doctor _Who_ ," Robin corrected with a scowl, "And I wouldn't know. He doesn't talk about his family much. _Not talking_ would be a good idea for someone not a million miles away from me right now, to be honest." he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "I've got to go and deal with your request. But if you have any more intimate questions about people I've never met please, be sure to send them on a postcard ASAP."

Gene folded his arms and watched Robin leave, then opened his desk drawer and glanced at the two files again. Then, as though someone had flipped a switch in his head he closed it again and rolled his eyes.

"I must be losing it," he mumbled. The only suspicious thing about Jake was how come he hadn't been rested for singing along so badly to his Spice Girls album yet.

~xXx~

The lights flickered once again and Em rested her forehead against her hand with a sigh. Her head felt so heavy that all she could do was to prop it up, her elbow against the desk. The exhaustion seemed to cone from nowhere; her brain slowly switching off despite every attempt to stay conscious. The darkness shrouded her again, and again, interspersed with flashes of stars that she couldn't quite see. She clutched her head with both hands and felt an eerie pressure building behind her temples. She suffered migraines regularly but the flashing lights she had this time were far stronger than usual. In fact, she felt very different to usual.

Not for the first time she started to wish she had gone with Kim. Maybe Kim had been right; she _should_ have eaten. She'd barely eaten anything those last few weeks. It had felt pointless and unnecessary to eat in a world that didn't exist but her body was taking the toll. Her hands started to shake and the room started spinning around her. This wasn't normal. _This wasn't right._

There were visions and voices, and _that night,_ and _him_ and they all crashed around her like dreams and hallucinations; fleeting, touching her mind for long enough to send her soul down deep underground, begging to be set free from the nightmare that had no end.

With a whimper, the crescendo brought with it silence and peace as her brain and body finally switched off and her head crashed to the desk before her.

~xXx~

" _Nicol? Nicol?"_

" _Huh?!"_

If it wasn't for the arm shaking her roughly, Nicol might never have woken up at all. At least, that was how it felt. She'd been so deeply asleep, or at least so deeply _gone_ , that nothing had pulled her round, not even the stern announcement from her tutor, Bobby, that someone had arrived to talk to the group again about the body found nearby.

She blinked many times, trying to clear the dark, clouded dreams from her mind. Her eyes and head felt so heady that it swayed and bobbed close to the desk several times before she could raise it properly and focus on who or what had brought her round. A face came into focus and something jumped inside her chest; a spark of fear that she didn't understand, almost as though her body recognised the face before her _mind_ did.

"Nicol?" the face looked down at the sheet of paper in her hand and then back at Nicol, "have I got the right person?"

"Yes," Nicol's voice failed as she spoke. She had to clear it several times before words formed properly. "Yes, I am." She became acutely aware of her heartbeat. Was it beating faster? It felt like it. At the very least, it was certainly beating harder. She swallowed and tried to focus properly on the face but that just sent her fear upward again so she looked away.

"My name is Detective Chief inspector Stringer," The face began, "We met before."

Nicol swallowed.

"Yes," she said weakly. She remembered. She remembered that face returning to the college. How many times? Two? Three? The answer to her question was always the same _– No, I don't know anything about the body._ But still she kept coming back.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?"

"Um," Nicol's hands felt numb. She wrung them together, trying to get them working, like they were still asleep. Her limbs felt dead; full of pins and needles. "I've got to get on," she turned awkwardly back to her desk, "with my picture."

"It won't take long," Kim assured her but Nicol still felt very disorientated.

"Where's everyone gone?" she whispered.

"I think they went for lunch break," Kim told her, "I've spoken to all your classmates."

Nicol gave a strained laugh.

" _Classmates_ ," she repeated. They weren't _mates_ of any kind. She didn't feel like a part of the group. She wasn't sure why but the rest of the group never seemed to acknowledge her existence. They behaved as though she wasn't there, never even looking in her direction, not hearing her when she spoke. Even her best friend behaved the same way. Nicol had asked her over and over again what was going on, but any time she eventually got her attention all she would say was that she 'forgot' Nicol was there. Nicol _felt_ forgotten. Truly forgotten by everyone.

Everyone, apparently, except DCI Stringer.

"You've been asleep," Kim told her, "heavy night last night?"

Nicol felt like laughing. She'd never had a heavy night in her life. A glass of red wine, some toast, a notebook and a pen had been her evening, _sorted_.

"No," she breathed, rubbing her eyes, "I must be ill or something."

Kim looked awkward and a little anxious.

"Well," she started to pull out a hard, uncomfortable plastic chair, "I won't keep you too long." She indicated the chair. "Do you mind if I...?"

It took Nicol a moment to even fathom what Kim was asking.

"Oh, no," she shook her head, "of course not. Take it." she gave a distant, ironic smile. "At least you asked. I've had people try to take the chair I'm sitting on, whilst I'm on it."

Kim frowned, not quite sure what to make of Nicol, then sank awkwardly into the chair. With her growing bump it was becoming more difficult to get in and out of chairs at the best of times, but these hard plastic monstrosities looked like they could just about do her in. She groaned as she tried to get comfortable, then turned her attention back to Nicol, who had turned back to the artwork on her desk. Kim studied it. She remembered seeing Nicol working on it the last time she'd paid a visit to the college.

"That's looking cool," she said, studying the collage.

Nicol didn't even look back.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"You must have been working on it for weeks," Kim pointed out and Nicol shrugged.

"It takes ages to build up all the rainbows," she commented, reaching for another TV magazine to start ripping out more shreds of colour.

Kim stared at the large sheet of paper that covered two desks and part of the wall. Something seemed odd about it. No, _different_ about it. It took her a few moments to realise what it was.

"There's a lot more grey than the last time I was here," she said, feeling oddly strange suddenly.

Nicol stopped and stared at the paper.

"Is there?" she asked quietly.

Kim nodded.

"It was so bright before..."

"Oh." Nicol's voice echoed with disappointment. She stared at the paper and her eyes focused upon the areas Kim had meant. A strange, cold chill drifted across the room. Nicol shivered and turned back to Kim for a second. "Maybe you've remembered wrong," she said bluntly and turned back to the picture.

Kim shook her head slowly.

"No," she said slowly, "I'm pretty sure there was more colour in it before." As Kim's eyes scanned the piece again she felt a strange shudder and her eyes fell upon a corner of the piece that had been full of blue tones a moment ago. The very edge had started to fade, Kim was certain of it. The light blues had turned to a pale grey, creeping in from the edges. Kim wrinkled up her brow and leaned closer to take a better look but Nicol blocked her and said crossly,

"What did you want?"

Kim shook herself as though breaking free from a trance of some sort. She blinked a few times,shocked both by Nicol's sharp tone and by the art piece before her. All the colours seemed to dull as she watched, almost imperatively to begin with.

"Uh," Kim closed her eyes and told herself sternly to stop being stupid. There was no way a collage could change in front of her eyes. It must have been the dark skies outside that were casting a grey tone to the colours on the page. It _had_ been a dark day. Perhaps a storm was brewing. "Yes," she sat upright and tried to make herself comfortable on the chair of doom. "I was wondering f you've heard or seen anything at all that could help us find out the identity of the young woman who was found in the woods."

"Not this again," Nicol said with strange hostility.

"Yes, it's important."

"Not to me it isn't," Nicol turned to Kim, irritation bursting through. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down a little. "I don't know anyone who's gone missing, detective. I don't know who she was and I've not heard anything. I don't know anyone here and I don't know anything about this murder." She scrambled to her feet. "What I _do_ know is that I feel horrible every time you come in here _talking_ about this!"

"I'm sorry," Kim started to stand up, "But this is my job. And no, it's not nice. An assault like this is going to affect people -"

"Then why do you keep coming _back?"_ Nicol cried.

"Because this is my job!" Kim stood up and folded her arms, "That girl had a future. A life. You still have yours."

" _Barely_ ," Nicol stared down at the greying collage on her desk. Her heart felt wrung out as she noticed more of her bright, vibrant colours had changed to grey, "What? I don't understand...?!"

Kim opened her mouth to ask what she meant but the collage answered as she glanced back and saw what Nicol had seen. She felt strange shudders across her shoulders and the lights dipped causing Nicol to jump visibly.

"It's alright, it'll go back up in a moment," Kim told her firmly, more to convince herself than anyone but the lights stayed low. "Huh. There must be problems across the grid. It was doing the same thing in Fenchurch, where I -"

"It doesn't matter," Nicol didn't want to talk about the lights, or _think_ about the lights. All she wanted to do was to put the colours back into her life. _Collage_. She meant _collage_. Her head was still fuzzy from her snooze. That was all. Funny though, she didn't even remember going to sleep. She grabbed the magazine and started shredding up more pieces, then finally glanced at Kim who was looking shaken, as much as she tried to hide it. Nicol felt guilty. Her reactions had been strange, even to herself. She didn't want Kim thinking she had anything to hide. She had no idea who the girl was or what had happened to her. All she wanted was to get on with her art and forget about everything.

"Sorry," she mumbled, "I'm really sorry. I feel like I'm still half asleep. I don't know what's going on, but," she looked Kim in the eye, "I _don't_ know anyone who's missing."

Kim stared at the girl. Nicol's behaviour had disturbed her in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a card.

"Just in case you think of anything," she said.

Nicol stared at the card with Kim's details on it and opened her mouth to speak.

"I've still got the one you -" she began but her words trailed off and she flinched visibly. Immediately Kim drew back.

"What" she whispered.

"Nothing," Nicol's eyes shut firmly. She didn't dare open them, not for a split second, in case she caught sight of whatever had caused that spark to burn in her memory. It made no sense, completely out of context. A business card. Something so innocuous. The card itself wasn't the problem. It was the split second memory it exposed her too.

" _Nicol?"_

Nicol kept her eyes firmly shut. The memory had gone, whatever it was, but the pain remained. It caused a tear to escape from her eye and run down her cheek. She hoped Kim wouldn't notice.

"I'm so tired," she whispered, "I've not been sleeping well."

Kim swallowed. There was something in Nicol's actions that caused her to feel disturbed deep inside. A sadness fell over her shoulders.

"Nicol," she said quietly, "I'm going to write my number on the desk for you." She grabbed the card, slipped it back in her pocket and rummaged for a pen, "don't tell the teacher." She thought she saw the very tiniest flicker of a smile but she wasn't sure. "Something's wrong. I know that. I think you know that too." She carefully wrote her number out for Nicol to keep. "Whatever it is," she hauled her heavy backside up out of the chair, "call me. I'll be waiting."

She slowly left the room, more disturbed by her encounter with Nicol than she had been by anything else in the case itself. She had photographs of the eighteen year old lying dead in the woods, she had accounts of her assault wounds, she had seen gruesome pictures and heard facts that tore her up inside.

But it was Nicol who would haunt her for the rest of the day.

~xXx~

There it was, as plain as anything, the little rectangle in his hand.

 _"No one else reads my emails. You can say anything you want."_

And she wished she had. Oh _fuck_ , _so_ many times she wished she had. And she knew exactly what she would have fucking said, too.

" _Fuck YOU!"_

"The Guv told me to bring you this," a voice protested as Em's head rose from the table and her eyes opened quickly. For several seconds she forgot to breathe, staring at Kim's DC, Imran, who was standing beside her with a steaming hot cup of coffee and a packet of chocolate digestives. For several moments neither knew what to say or do. Finally Em blinked and whispered,

"What?"

"DCI Stringer told me to bring you these," Imran repeated nervously, stepping back and placing the refreshments on the desk from a safe distance, "sorry."

"No," Em closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh, "No, I didn't mean _you_ , I was having a -" she hesitated. What _had_ she been having? "A bad dream," she said quietly although that didn't cover it, not for a moment. "I didn't mean you." She looked at her desk and relished the scent of the fresh, hot coffee. "Sorry."

Imran held up his hand, accepting her apology, but still seemed scared to come too close. Especially since there was an entire battalion of extremely sharp pencils close to hand.

"She gave me a message for you too," Imran continued and Em looked curious.

"Oh?"

Imran pointed to the biscuits.

" _Eat."_

Em stared at the packet and gave a distant smile, slightly flushing in her cheeks as Imran left for safer pastures. She picked up the packet and turned it over in her hands, then ripped the little red tag and watched as the packet tore in the wrong place, just as it always did. For the first time in a long time the world around her started to feel a little more tangible. And even though it wasn't the right one for her, at that moment she felt grounded and safe.

" _Thanks, Guv,"_ she mumbled.

 **~xXx~**

 _ **A/N: Hey everyone :) I know it's been a while since I was able to update my fic, and I'm sorry about that. I didn't make the 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo but I wasn't actually that far off, considering. Unfortunately health stuff has continued to plague me and I've literally not been able to get online or use my laptop that much the last couple of months.**_

 _ **However, it was really important to me to get a chapter up to wish you all a merry Christmas and a very happy new year. It means so much to me that you're still following after all this time. It means even more to me that I've made some really good friends through writing them, and that they played such a strong role in growing closer to the love of my life. Thank you, Ashes to Ashes – for everything!**_

 _ **I hope you all have an amazing Christmas – and I will be back with another chapter at the new year if not before! x**_


	6. Chap 5: You and Me and a Bottle of Wine

**Chapter 5**

The files were practically burning a hole in Gene's drawer.

He could almost smell them smouldering away in there.

For the thirteenth time that day he pulled the drawer open and stared at them, but this time they called to him a little too loudly and he snatched them up.

"Bollocks to it," he muttered but before he could look at them the door opened and he almost gave himself a coronary in his attempt to hide the files again. _"Christ almighty, it's only you,"_ he sighed as Alex walked in, looking somewhat annoyed about the reception to her arrival.

"That's charming," she cried, "I guess you don't want this latte either."

Gene eyed the cups in her hands.

"How many sugars?" he asked.

"Too many," Alex told him. She handed him his latte and pulled out a chair to sit down but Gene shooed her.

"Pull the blind and bolt the door, Bolly," he told her which made her frown for many reasons.

"Slavery hasn't become legal again, you know," she told him, rolling her eyes but she did as he asked and secured the room. "What's so secret we need to turn your office into a bird hide?"

Gene watched Alex sink into the chair, pull out a tissue and blow her nose slightly too loudly.

"You auditioning for the brass section in the Christmas orchestra?" he asked and Alex rolled her eyes.

"Got a bit of a cold, that's all," she told him which made Gene frown.

"When do you ever get colds?" he asked and Alex opened her mouth to speak but froze. It was true, his world seemed mostly immune to common illnesses. _Usually_.

"Today, apparently," Alex told him, "My immune system must be low.

"I can give that a boost," Gene commented, one eyebrow rising which made Alex smirk despite herself.

"Maybe tonight," she said, "as long as you don't mind sharing the bed with a couple of trombones and a tuba." She nodded to the files in Gene's grasp. "Is this the case we're keeping hush-hush?"

"Yeah, the case of the britpop invasion," Gene mumbled, tossing the files down for Alex to see.

"Jake and Marci?" she frowned, "what's wrong? Has something happened to them?"

"Yes," Gene told hey, "they broke me bloody marbles in half."

"Not sure that's possible," Alex said, picking up Jake's file and idly flicking through it, "I think you ground those down a long time ago." She looked seriously at Gene. "Gene, what's going on?"

Gene glanced around, aware suddenly of how dark the day felt. The lights seemed dim and outside the sky seemed to barely be fending off a storm.

"It's been almost two years, Bols," he began, "since that pair of pop rejects arrived in me station."

"Same time as Luke and Lorna," Alex said, thinking of the team she'd said goodbye to just a week or so earlier.

"Had my reservations about those two," Gene confessed, "When they first arrived I wanted to sling them in a cell for their fashion choices. But they proved me wrong. Nicey Spice found her niche taking happy snaps and Dawson's come through for us more times than Simon's ripped off Noel Edmonds's wardrobe."

"You think they're almost ready for last orders?" Alex asked but Gene shook his head.

"Nope," he said quietly, "it doesn't feel like it."

Alex couldn't disagree. Both Jake and Marci were only starting to thrive in new roles. It felt like the wrong time to hurry them on.

"So why are you-" Alex began as a photo dropped from Marci's file and Alex's stomach lurched, " _Oh my god -"_

Gene peered under the desk to catch a glimpse of the shot before Alex scooped it up and tucked it back in her file.

"Strike me arse-ways, that's not a good look," he shuddered. He tried to imagine what had caused such horrific injuries to her face. There was so much blood pouring from her wounds that he couldn't even begin to guess how badly bruised she was beneath her soaked clothes. He swallowed and pushed the image out of his mind. It seemed cold and heartless but it was what he had to do, just as he did whenever he felt a sense of someone's death from touching them or being nearby. It was never nice but he was used to it, as harsh as that sounded.

"How -" Alex began but Gene shook his head.

"You don't want to know," he mumbled.

Alex looked down. She knew he was right. She had to do the same things to stay sane. That didn't make it easy though. She placed the files back on the desk and looked at Gene.

"What are you worried about, Gene?" she asked.

Gene looked her in the eye and leaned forward, folding his arms as he began;

"We're bloody Noah's Ark again."

Alex frowned.

"because... we're overrun with endangered species?" she guessed, only half sarcastically.

"They came in two-by-two," Gene reminded her. Alex took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It was strange but she'd never really thought much about it. They all knew Jake and Marci went way back, but had never questioned it very much. They'd talked about it in vague terms but neither had been ready to question what that meant.

"I don't remember reading their files when they arrived," Alex began.

"Well you wouldn't, you were swanning around in two thousand and bollocks at the time," Gene told her. He looked a little embarrassed as he added, "problem was, that meant _I_ didn't read them properly either. Wasn't up to much without you, Bols."

Alex looked down sadly. Thinking about their time apart killed her inside and she didn't want to go there. Nether did Gene.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly as Gene stood up and started to pace.

"I shook their hands, wiped their noses, introduced them to the filing cabinet," he shook his head, "but I was going through the motions. The Gene Genie wasn't his usual charismatic self."

"Did you only have three sugars in your coffee?" Alex tried to joke but the atmosphere felt increasingly dark. "So?" she pushed the files toward him. "Have you read them now?"

"Kept trying," Gene swept his hair back, "but decided to leave them be."

Alex frowned.

"Why?"

"No bloody idea."

Alex picked up Jake's file and held it toward her.

"Well maybe it's time to take a look?" she suggested. Gene hesitated, then he slowly took the file and plonked his backside down in his chair again, flipping open the file. "Do you want me to look at Marci's?" Alex suggested.

"As long as there's no more unexpected holiday snaps," Gene said grimly.

Alex picked up Marci's file and opened it, ignoring the photograph. Whether they found anything of interest or not, at least Gene's curiosity would be sated. Perhaps then the world could rest for a little while longer.

~xXx~

"I've seen this all before, y'know," the heavy-set man in a scruffy-looking coat that had clearly outlasted its intended use by several years told Jake and Marci with a half-hearted sigh. He used the last of his chips to scrape up the dregs of ketchup remaining on his greasy plate, gulped them down almost without chewing and reached into his pockets, pulling out various items in an attempt to find the one he was looking for. "Suddenly a visiting order comes in from someone who's _suddenly_ a long lost uncle or something. Apparently." he found himself distracted by some of the items he'd found in his pocket, lit a cigarette and sent both Marci and Jake reeling back in disgust, wrinkling up their noses and taking a deep breath of reasonably fresh air before the smoke enveloped them.

"And then what?" Jake asked, pulling his coat around him and leaning back in his chair as far as he could.

"Then, _nothing,"_ The mysterious snout carried on searching his pockets and became briefly intrigued by a surprise yoyo he'd uncovered. _"Oh!_ Fun."

"So what good does this do either side," Marci rechecked the slip of paper Gene had handed Jake, "Breezer?" She rolled her eyes internally. Why couldn't anyone have a nice normal nickname? Why did they all sound so stupid? "I'm not getting why we're here?"

"Look," Breezer leaned froward and the nose-wrinkling around the table increased, "It goes like this: The boys befriend some poor, forgotten soul rotting in the depths of HMP Fenchurch. They get all his old contacts and business, _he_ gets a percentage of all those deals put away in a nice little savings account ready for the day he plays his _get out of jail_ card. Except," he went a step too far and accidentally emptied a little foil package onto the table which Marci's eyes landed upon and a shiver shot through her like a bolt of electricity.

 _Only once. It was only the once._

She felt stricken, her eyes bolt as they moved from the package to Breezer's eyes and he gave a guilty smile.

"Whoops," he reached for the package, "You didn't see that."

"Sorry," Jake's reflexes were faster, "we kind of did," he grasped the package and slipped it into his own pocket, much to Marci's complete shock. "Sorry. Just doing my job."

Breezer scowled, then gave a flippant shrug.

"Was only a freebie anyway," he said, "Enjoy."

"The evidence bag will surely enjoy it," Jake told him but Breezer just laughed.

"Yeah. Sure."

Marci felt her pulse starting to quicken. _It was just one time,_ that one dark desperate time. Pills were one thing. But _this_... this was a step too far. She regretted it every single day. But she _had_ been _very_ desperate.

"Marci?" Jake's voice interrupted her thoughts, "are you OK?"

Marci turned to him as though sprung, getting into trouble with a teacher.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, "Why?"

"Your hands are shaking."

Marci looked down at the table where her hands were indeed trembling, ever so slightly. She made a conscious effort to hold them still and gave a forced smile.

"It's cold today," She said quietly.

Jake glanced around and studied the hot drinks menu above the counter.

"Too right," he agreed, "Could do with a warmer. Coffee?"

Marci gave another thin smile.

"Please."

Jake glanced at Breezer.

"Hot drink?"

Breezer reached into another of his seemingly endless array of pockets.

"Coffee's good," he agreed and Jake nodded as he got to his feet.

"Thought you were offering to pay for a minute," he said as Breezer pulled a small packet of toffees from his pocket.

Breezer laughed.

"Thought wrong," he said and Jake rolled his eyes.

"Be right back," he said with a sigh and walked towards the counter.

Breezer turned to Marci.

"Does he always come with a stick up his backside?" he asked.

Marci opened her mouth to defend Jake but she froze and eventually gave a little laugh. She glanced over his shoulder as he ordered, becoming a little flustered as he tried to balance creamers, sugars and stirers.

"Yeah," she said fondly, "pretty much." Jake was Jake and had never changed. Marci was glad of that fact. She turned back to Breezer and folded her arms, trying to forget the little foil package now residing in the pocket of Jake's jacket. "So," she began, "what happens?"

"When?"

"When X-inmate gets out and claims his jackpot," Marci began, "you got to 'except'."

"Ahh," Breezer put out the end of his cigarette and started on the final pocket. "Well, see, that's the thing. None of them are going to get to claim their cut for years. Even Miller's going to be away for another six, seven years at least. Some of them have thirty years ahead of them. By that time the boys are gonna be long gone. Only got plans to stick around for another five years or so. They're making their money while they can and retiring to the Costa Del Something."

Marci picked up Breezer's yoyo and turned it round in her hands.

"So Miller's given the Kellen's all his contacts, his clients, everything," she slipped her finger through the loop of string and glanced at Breezer, the yoyo held aloft, "...May I?"

"Be my guest," Breezer nodded and Marci let the yoyo drop and rise up the string a few times.

"They cash in, expand their network and keep all the cash for themselves."

"Spot on," Breezer nodded as Marci whipped the yoyo around over her head and kept it spinning. "Nice style."

"Thank you," Marci spotted an approaching Jake out of the corner of her eye and caught the yoyo in her hand before it could take out his eye or knock the coffees from his hands.

"What are you like?" He laughed as he slipped into the chair beside her, placing the three coffees on the table along with an explosion of sugars and the like, "just like when we were kids."

"Sorry," Marci blushed, handing the yoyo back to Breezer who seemed disappointed.

"Hoping you were going to show me how to do a few more tricks," he said with a sigh. Pushing the yoyo back into his pocket, he finally found what he'd been looking for and puked out a very small hard-backed notebook. "here."

"What's that?" Jake asked as he pushed a coffee in Breezer's direction.

Breezer lifted the styrofoam cup and reached for a sugar or two.

"Not saying it's a hundred percent accurate but these are all the people the boys have befriended recently."

"How recently are we talking?" asked Marci.

"Been happening for the last four years," Breezer told them, "started slow at first. Think it was actually Denny's mate. Said they'd look after his business for him while he was away but he's an old man now. Wanted to retire. So," he started gathering up objects to return to his gaggle of pockets with one hand whilst simultaneously shaking a sugar into his coffee with another, "that's when the arrangement was born. The boys claimed they would put about a third of all profits from his contacts into an account for him to retire on when he got out. But they've done nothing except line their own pockets and they've no intention of starting now." He returned the last of his items to his pockets and sighed, putting his grubby fingers around his coffee cup and warming them as he stared into his sweetened drink. "About a year later they bagged another deal. Again, thirty percent was supposed to go into a mice kitty for some poor stooge to retire on in twenty years' time. Then nothing until six months ago. Word started getting round. Now they've grown so fast that they've had to start extending their circle of trust. _Somehow_ ," he slurped his drink causing Jake to scowl with distaste, "I got in."

"You're saying they're making deals and then taking everything whilst their friends... customers...?" Jake wasn't sure how to phrase it, "are inside" Breezer nodded, "So why did you decide to spill? And why now? You said you've seen this happen before. Even if you weren't in their circle of trust -"

"I helped your Guv out some time ago," Breezer told them quietly, "except he was an arsehole."

Jake and Marci nodded.

"True," said Marci.

"Very true," Jake added.

"He abused the trust we'd mutually built," Breezer said, "I used to tip him off about a few of Miller's drop offs. But he pushed me for more and I ended up in danger. Left me with no choice but to lie low for a bit. After Miller went away I got my feet back under the table. Fell in with the Kellen boys. Been working with them on and off for ten years or so but this was different. I got in there. Up the ladder." Breezer closed his eyes and put a hand to his head. "Not what I want. Not any more." He opened his eyes and looked at Marci. "Got myself a bird. Looks a lot like you, she does. Few years older. Longer hair. Flatter shoes. But she's a good girl. And she's mine. I want to do the best I can by her." He supped from his coffee, slightly burning his tongue. "I promised her I'm going to get out of the whole business. Got a start-up grant from the government. Me own truck. Going to be doing deliveries. Legal ones, mind"

"So you're sweeping out the cupboards?" Marci asked, "before you leave?"

"My conscience told me to clean out the cupboards," Breezer told them, low-key picking his nose, "but I wouldn't even wipe my hands on that Mancunian arsehole's stinky coat tails afterwards."

"So you asked to talk to someone else," Jake said, almost laughing. Somehow the thought of someone else being as irritated by Gene as his team were was comforting, not to mention amusing. He found himself starting to warm to Breezer, just a little. "OK," he nodded, "well, I'm happy to take over from DCI Hunt."

Breezer visibly deflated.

"Oh," he said disappointedly, "I was hoping..." he glanced at Marci who took a moment to realise what he meant and gave a burst of laughter before she could contain it. She slapped a hand over her mouth and glanced guiltily at Jake, attempting to wrestle her giggles back under control.

"Sorry," she said.

"I mean, she's just, _you know,"_ Breezer waved his hand a little dismissively, "more my kind of person."

"More your _type_ you mean?" Jake eyed him warily but Breezer wasn't having it.

"I'm offended, I am!" He said crossly, "I just told you I've found myself a mate for life."

"Yeah, one that looks like DS Fell with flatter _shoes_ ," Jake said crossly.

"I think your girlfriend is a bit too young for me," Breezer rolled his eyes and Jake turned a fetching shade of crimson.

"DS Fell is my respected colleague," he squeaked, unaware that Marci's giggles had turned into an awkward cough and her cheeks were burning like a couple of oil lamps.

"I'd love to step in," she flushed, "But I'm just filling in until DI Dawson gets a new partner," she coughed, " _Working_ partner," she clarified hastily, "sorry."

"Shame," Breezer said, "you could have taught me how to use this thing," he plucked the yo-yo from his pocket, " _without_ knocking someone's eye out." He tossed it across the table and Marci caught it. "think you'd better keep it." He glanced at Jake. "You already got _your_ freebie." He stood up, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "The book gives you everything you need for now."

Jake watched Breezer pick up the remains of his coffee and walk away. He held up his hand like a student asking the teacher for permission to go to the toilet and called,

"I need to know how to contact you."

Breezer turned around and looked at Jake, opened his mouth then changed his mind. He closed it again, laughed and shook his head before raising his coffee to Marci.

"Sort your boyfriend out," he laughed and left the cafe quickly, two blushing detectives staring after him. Neither had been quite ready for Breezer.

"Bollocks," Jake mumbled but Marci's hand on his arm shook him out of a threatened mope.

"Hey, you did well, Jake," she told him, "Being handed someone's unwanted snout without warning or briefing... that's unprofessional."

"Hunt _is_ unprofessional," Jake puffed his hair away from his face with annoyance.

"I know," Marci closed her eyes and picked up her cup. "I liked Breezer's description."

Jake nodded.

" _Arsehole,"_ they agreed in unison.

Marci brought her cup to her lips. She moved slowly, trying to keep the slight tremble in her hands away from Jake's sight. She took a tiny sip and returned it to the table.

"I think considering everything it's been a pretty decent day."

Jake looked at Marci; the colour in her cheeks and _that smile_ , poles apart from the night before. It was like seeing his old friend, the Marci he'd spent most of his life joined at the hip with, again. He got to his feet reached for his car keys.

"Come on," he said, "We'd better get back before Hunt blows a gasket and replaces me with a cactus. Unless you want to stick around for the refreshments?"

Marci pulled a face at the memory of the one sip of coffee she'd taken and scrambled up.

"No thanks," she said, "even the canteen stuff is better than this."

"We could go via Latte land?" Jake offered.

"Finally, a reason to live," Marci smiled.

~xXx~

"How's my breath?"

Marci felt slightly alarmed when Jake started breathing heavily in her direction.

"Gross as usual," she told him, "why?"

"If Hunt catches me drinking Latte Land produce without bringing him back anything he'll demote me," Jake told her and Marci laughed.

"I think you're fine," she said. It was funny, the car ride back from their meeting with Breezer and the detour to Latte Land had been a refreshing break from life. It had been like the old days; the two of them against the world, best friends and best colleagues. Marci had to admit that she missed that and wasn't even sure when they'd stopped spending time together the way they once had. She supposed it was a combination of things; the increase in workload, Marci changing departments, plus Jake having his first relationship. In fact, Marci's relationship with Shaz had been her first _serious_ relationship, too. Fewer nights out were spent together than they'd once been. Plus there had been Marci's sabbatical.

For the first time since they left the cafe she realised her shakes were returning. _Damnit_ , was that because she was thinking about it? The caffeine in their refreshments had helped her withdrawal headache a little but that was coming back on now. _Damn_. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed to concentrate. She knew she could do this. She'd beaten it before. She could do it again. But right there and then her thoughts of those little white tablets in her desk drawer were so tempting.

"Marci?"

Marci opened her eyes and found Jake looking at her with concern.

"Sorry," she said, feigning a yawn, "sorry, I'm just tired."

"Are you sure that's all?" Jake asked.

Marci forced herself to smile.

"Yeah, of course I'm sure," she said, "I'm fine." she unfastened her seatbelt and watched Jake doing the same.

"I'm still worried about you," he told her.

"I need to take my," she coughed slightly, "antibiotics."

They climbed out the car and stared back at the building as Jake locked the car.

"Make sure you don't wash them down with a cocktail this time, OK?" he advised.

"Ha ha," Marci said weakly. She watched Jake slip the keys back in his pocket and curse.

"Bugger. Forgot about this."

He pulled the little foil package out and Marci felt her heart thump.

"Oh," she said involuntarily.

"You couldn't deal with this for me, could you?" Jake asked her and Marci felt sure she froze for several seconds.

"What?" she asked quietly.

Jake held it out in her direction.

"Just get this processed," he said, "not like we're going to charge the guy but we can't just throw it in the bin."

Marci felt her tongue run involuntarily across her lips.

"Sure," she whispered. What was this, some kind of test? She took it from him and pushed it into her pocket. "No problem, Jake."

"Thanks," Jake smiled. He looked at her with a slightly shy expression. "Listen, thank you so much, Marci."

Marci felt a little uncomfortable.

"Not a big deal," she said quietly.

"I mean for coming to my meeting."

"Oh," Marci's expression changed and she shuffled on the spot, "Yeah, no, that was my pleasure." She closed her eyes momentarily and cursed herself internally. _Shit_. That was a fucking dumb thing to say, "I mean, I've missed that."

"Me too," Jake smiled awkwardly. He raised his hand slightly. "Don't suppose you fancy a drink tonight?" He watched her shuffle uncomfortably and worried that he'd said the wrong thing. "I suppose not, after last night. Not until you've finished your drugs."

Marci felt her face flush and a strange panic shot through her until she realised he meant the fabled antibiotics.

"I should probably get an early night anyway," she said awkwardly, "but hey, if you need anyone again, I mean, for work purposes," S _hit, shit, shit,_ it was one thing after another, "until the Guv finds you a new partner -"

"Believe me, I'll be the first one at your office door," Jake said. He paused, flashing back to an incident involving a topless Marci and her camera, "Uh, knocking. Not just walking in," he added a little unnecessarily.

He and Marci shared an awkward goodbye and both walked toward different entrances of the station. Neither had ever felt awkward before but these days things were undeniably different.

Neither was ready to confront the reason why, yet both were unable to hide it away.

~xXx~

"Nothing. Bollocks."

Alex looked up at Gene as he threw Jake's file on the desk and huffed like an overweight elephant on a mountain climbing expedition.

"Surely there's something," Alex told him, "you've not read it very thoroughly yet."

"Don't need to," Gene sighed, resting his head against his palm, "I looked at the pictures." He saw Alex rolling her eyes. "Nothing stands out, Bolly. Got some Mancunian blood in him, not that you'd know from his flippin' constitution. Spotless career record. Nothing about his taste in novelty underwear though," Gene blanched, "Thank god, I'd rather see the snuff photo again."

"You've not even read -" Alex began but could see Gene had given up, "Fine. So all your paranoia is for nothing, is it?"

 _"Not_ paranoia, just a temporary leave of sanity," Gene huffed.

Alex turned another page, scanning down the words in front of her for anything relevant.

"Gut instinct, Gene," she said, "how many times have you taught the importance of it? Don't ignore yours now." A string of words gripped Alex's attention and she rose upright in her seat. Gene looked at her as she began, "I'm taking it you didn't know about Marci's demotion then?"

Gene raised an eyebrow.

"Little Miss Goody Goody got herself into a bit of bother back home?" he asked.

"No, I mean her demotion here," Alex's eyes were still wide with surprise and her mouth hung open between statements. She looked up at Gene. "Her rank fell when she arrived."

"Her and half me bloody team," Gene dismissed but Alex shook her head.

"She was a Detective _Inspector_ , Gene," she said with some urgency, "she went down two ranks."

That wasn't normal. In fact, Gene could only think of one other person who'd deceived such a terrible demotion.

" _Batman -"_ he began as an urgent knocking came from the door and he stopped talking abruptly.

"Guv?" Jake's voice called as the handle rattled, "Guv, have you locked the door? We're back and I've got details! _Guv?"_ Gene turned to Alex with a whithering glance and rolled his eyes. _"Guv, open the door, it's DI Dawson here!"_

"Really?" Gene rolled his eyes again, "I thought it was the flying squad." He took Marci's file from Alex who was still in a state of shock and threw them both in the bottom of his drawer, then turned back to her and told her in a low tone, "Not a word. OK?" he watched Alex nod, "We'll talk about this later."

For now he had to unbolt the door before Jake did to it what Kim had done to his house the night before. It was embarrassing enough calling the carpenter out at the ungodly hour. Twice in one week was more than Gene wanted to risk. Besides, he needed time for Alex's discovery to sink in. he wasn't ready to face it yet, no matter how many reflections of stars he could see out of the corner of his eye.

 **~xXx~**

 _ **A/N: I wanted to post a chapter today to wish you all a very happy new year and all the very best for 2017. Your reviews and messages mean so much to me, I read every single one and I appreciate them so much. To know there are still people following almost 7 years after the end of the show is pretty damn amazing. Thank you for still being here and following this journey. You're awesome!**_


	7. Chapter 6: Let's Delay Our Misery

**Chapter 6**

 _ **A/N: Hi everyone! I've had this chapter edited for a while but not had chance to upload it. Lucy and I are both sick with the flu right now so I'm uploading this as a surprise for her to read when she wakes up from snoozing. I love you so much, my darling, feel better soon xxx**_

 **~xXx~**

Jake crashed through the door and knocked over what he thought was some sort of sturdy book case. The fact that it was Gene did scare him somewhat, especially since he knew there were at least three filing cabinets within his easy reach but with some luck he managed to pluck the tiny notebook from his pocket in time to prevent a full scale assault.

"Before you hit me, I've got the information you need _and_ a lot more," he held his prize aloft, "Breezer was happy to talk. He's getting out. Cleaning his conscience before he does."

"You'll be cleaning metal chips from the back of yer head for the next six weeks," Gene threatened but Alex stepped in.

"What information?" she asked, reaching out to help Gene off the ground.

"The Kellen Boys have deals going with several convicts," Jake continued, brushing his hair out of his eyes, "Miller's just the latest. Problem is, they're not holding up their part of the bargain."

"Well, you do a deal with the dark side and what do you expect?" Gene swiped the notebook from Jake's hands.

"They've branched out way beyond the forgery ring," Jake said emphatically, "there's a good sideline in illicit substances going on for a start."

"Right," Gene glanced through the book and handed it back to Jake, "Detective Inspector Dawson, here's your chance to prove yourself. Your snout, your operation."

Jake seemed confused and somewhat wary of Gene's announcement.

"Guv?"

"All resources at your disposal," Gene continued, "Don't let me down."

Jake was completely taken aback. He barely restrained a smile of surprise at Gene's sudden show of confidence in him. It seemed as though he'd been fighting for that moment forever. It had been a strange damn day but one of the best Jake had known for a very long time.

"I won't let you down, Guv," he said.

He meant it, too.

~xXx~

"Shoebury. A word."

Simon froze but didn't turn around. He carried on scribbling across a form and sighed.

" _Piss,_ " he said, "That's a word. Off." he glanced behind him, "That's another, There you go. Even gave you a bonus."

Gene hesitated and nodded. He knew he deserved that. Just this once Simon would be spared the filing cabinet treatment. He walked slowly into Simon's office, stole one of Simon's cookies and sat down.

"Big operation on tomorrow," he began as Simon glared at his stolen goods.

"Liposuction?" he huffed but Gene managed not to rise to it, even though Simon had a lovely set of filing cabinets, all ripe and ready for action.

"Dawson's done well. Finally out of short trousers by the looks of it."

"Congratulations to Jake," Simon said as Gene bit into the cookie and sent a barrage of crumbs falling, "Jesus, Gene, are you on a mission to get me thrown in jail for aggravated assault?!"

Gene roughly swept away a few crumbs and continued.

"He's doing well, despite being a twat," he recalled their previous conversation and noted a slight smile on Simon's face, "but I reckon we need some more experience on our side." He tossed the rest of the cookie into his mouth and gulped it down. "Meeting tomorrow morning, nine o'clock, in CID. It's Dawson's call really, but..." he scuffed the toe of his shoe against the wall, "would appreciate your input."

Simon glanced around. Gene seemed somewhat more sober than usual, and he wasn't even talking about the booze. He nodded, albeit a little reluctantly and sighed.

"Fine," he said, "I'll be there."

"And the operation, tomorrow night -"

"Yeah, whatever. I'll be there," Simon nodded.

Gene got to his feet and took a step or two towards the door before hanging back for a moment.

"You'll need a partner," he said.

Simon have a small shrug, somewhat confused by Gene's entire visit.

"Aren't you partnering with Alex?" he asked.

"I'm not asking you to sit next to me on the bloody coach home from a school visit!" Gene rolled his eyes, "Yes, Bolly's on my team. You find yourself someone else." He stepped outside and leaned back through the doorway, just to drive the point of his visit home, "I suppose you can bring yer DI. _If_ he can keep his tail in his pants." He moved out of view then leaned back to clarify, "that was a devil reference, not an 'omo one."

Simon stared after him as he disappeared back to his own office, completely baffled by the last few minutes. There was a part of him that was simply relieved not to have been introduced to his filing cabinets in a more intimate way, and a part of him wished that Gene had the balls to just give him an outright apology, but he'd worked with the Guv for long enough to read between the lines. It was a step. For Gene it was probably a far larger one than Simon could realise.

Perhaps Gene wasn't a lost cause. Simon suspected that, on this occasion, he would just have to wait and see.

~xXx~

There they were, the three little pills, waiting for her, just where she'd left them, pretending to be paperclips and doing a very bad job of it. They called to her in a way she'd never felt before. Her throbbing head and uncomfortable skin drew her back to them like a magnet with a force she couldn't resist. She plucked one of the tablets out. _Space them out. Make them last._ Gulp. Gone.

She pulled a face as the bitterness of the codeine made her flinch, grabbed the water bottle on her desk and swallowed a couple of mouthfuls to wash it away. She could _do_ this. She'd done it before. She could kick them again.

" _Marci!"_

Almost like a reflex action, Marci reached out and pushed the drawer in with a sharp thump and spun around to see an excited Jake at the door.

" _Jake,"_ she felt her heart racing. Was that the guilt or something else? She almost growled with frustration at herself. Of all times to start thinking about that _again_. She tried to ignore the heat spreading across her cheeks and smiled at Jake. "What's up?"

"Guv seemed happy with our news," he said, "actually, he seemed happy enough to leave me in charge of tomorrow's operation."

 _"Hey,_ " Marci gave a genuine smile, "That's great to hear." She knew the Guv had always been a little down on putting any real responsibility onto Jake's shoulders to Jake, although she'd never completely understood why. His promotion had been something of a surprise to everyone. "What did he say?"

"Surprisingly little," said Jake, "but he's given me permission to tap into whatever resources I need. And I need a partner for the op tomorrow."

"You want me on board again?" Marci asked as an intense tingle passed through her, " _Sure_. Sure, I'm sure that's fine. Simon doesn't need me until next week."

"You've not worked with him much so far, have you?" Jake commented and Marci's expression fell a little. Jake knew nothing of the lengths she'd gone to in order to avoid James. She'd heard Simon's words time and again ringing in her head; that James wasn't the same man who'd blown up parts of the station and caused the death of Eddie; that James had been suffering from some form of illness and had received 'help' to recover. But not only didn't it ring true to her, it brought back things she'd worked so very hard to bury.

"If _you_ had an office next to the canteen, wouldn't _you_ go out of your way to spend your time there?" she bluffed, the other two tablets yelling her name from the drawer.

"Good point, Marci," Jake smiled, "good point. Well, as long as that means you're cleared, I need you tomorrow morning. Meeting at nine. Then tomorrow night you'll be my partner for the op. Is that OK with you?"

Despite a clash of thoughts rolling around in her mind she felt a strong buzz in her veins at the thought of spending the night paired up with Jake, _just like the old days_. She nodded with a smile.

"That's fine by me," she nodded and Jake beamed.

"Awesome," he said, "got to go and speak to the canine unit, but I'll call you later, yeah?"

Marci watched Jake as he dashed off to continue arranging the next morning's meeting. She was left with such a strange mix of emotions that she didn't know quite what to do with them. Her inappropriate feelings were starting to become unmutable but this wasn't the right time to think about them. Nor was it the right time to think about _anything_ beyond getting rid of that headache and those shakes.

She had to keep ourself together for the meeting and the operation. After _that_ , she'd get herself back to normal.

Her hand slid down to the drawer handle and opened it slowly.

Two more pills were calling.


	8. Chapter 7: Like Me For You

**Chapter 7**

Simon slowly opened the door and peered inside cautiously. It was the first time he'd driven home alone since the day James had won the fight against the darkness and being alone certainly did not feel good to him. The smell of food that wafted under his nostrils the moment he stepped inside under his nostrils caused him to take a very deep sniff and his stomach rumbled in response. His arguments with both James and Gene had robbed him of an appetite and, until that moment, he hadn't even realised that he'd not eaten all day.

"Hello?" he called cautiously and a nervous James peered out of the kitchen.

"Hey," he said with a very anxious smile.

" _James,_ " Simon's heart practically stopped at the sight of him. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The room was warm and full of wonderful smells in stark contrast to the bitter winter day outside. "Hey, I've been worried, where have you been?"

James hung his head for a moment. It was true enough to say that he'd gone out of his way to avoid Simon all day. In the morning it had been through anger over the night before, then later from shame at his own behaviour. He knew he'd been in the right, but he'd still behaved like a child. He wasn't used to adult interactions if he was honest. He wished that he'd talked things out calmly with Simon instead of throwing a strop. He didn't believe he'd managed to get his point across and he'd not listened to Simon's either. Eventually he'd slipped away from work under the guise of having a migraine and began working on an apology meal.

"I've been busy," he said guiltily, "had a bunch of enquiries to make this morning and then I had a bit of a migraine -" he watched Simon walk slowly forward, "- which I managed to cure with the fine art of home cooking."

Simon found himself laughing gently. James was naturally funny and just his way of speaking made Simon chuckle all the time. He closed his eyes and risked opening his arms as he said,

"James, I'm sorry. You were right about Gene, absolutely fucking spot on."

" _I'm_ sorry," James shook his head, accepting Simon's hug and relishing the warm pair of arms around him, "I behaved like a bloody idiot."

"I just wish you'd stuck around and talked it _out_ ," Simon told him honestly, " but you had every right to be angry. I'm fucking furious with myself, _and_ with Gene." he pulled back for a moment so he could throw his bag of papers onto a chair, "I told him so, too."

James stared at Simon, genuinely shocked.

"You did?" he asked and Simon nodded, "What happened?"

"Long story," Simon's eyes focused on the oven, "which I'll tell you over... dinner?!"

James smiled a little shyly. He moved toward the cupboard and took out two glasses, then opened a bottle of red wine. Simon had never really enjoyed wine until James moved in but he'd started to enjoy a glass in the evening. It felt civilised and refined somehow. He liked that. It felt good to be in a steady, stable relationship, doing normal, steady, stable things.

"I even bought an apron," James joked and Simon rubbed his eyes.

"You did?"

James laughed.

"No," he slid a glass towards Simon and started to fill it with rich red wine. Simon smiled and sank into a chair at the kitchen table.

"So what's all this then?" he asked.

"Apology meal," said James, "don't expect that much from it. I'm not Robin."

Simon bit his lip. He sometimes forgot that.

"What have we got?" he asked.

"Soup and rolls for the first course," James told him, "again, don't expect much, it's only Heinz."

Even having someone who cared enough to open the tin on his behalf was a big change for Simon, and it was one that he had to confess he liked, very much indeed. From a dark day to a warm evening, James had brought laughter to the face that never smiled.

"Heinz is fine," he smiled.

~xXx~

Robin and Jake crashed into the booth with their drinks; hot, sweaty and exhausted. An hour of non-stop dancing had pulled Jake out of his worries if only for a little while but had taken a toll on his thirst and he downed half a bottle of water almost without thinking. He tightened the cap, pushed it to one side and began on the lager whilst Robin swigged from a brightly coloured alcopop of some non-existent berry flavour. He leaned back and stared out at the dance floor.

" _Heaving tonight,"_ he commented loudly. Despite Robin's volume Jake only half heard him.

" _Yeah,"_ he agreed. Not really sure what he was agreeing to.

"I guess everyone's out on the town now Christmas is coming," Robin remarked.

This time Jake didn't really hear any of his words and only gave a nod in response.

"Mmm," he mumbled, non-committally. He glanced out at the heaving, pulsating snake of bodies that were now embroiled in a festive conga and sighed. "Marci would have been right in the middle of this."

"Huh?" Robin asked, leaning across the table and cocking his ear toward Jake who barely realised he'd spoken. He froze and shrugged awkwardly, shocked that his best friend was taking up every waking thought in his head suddenly..

"Nothing, sorry."

"I heard the word Marci." Robin commented and Jake hesitated. He had no issue hearing Robin when it had to do with Marci, apparently. He became very busy drinking from his half-pint and tried not to listen. "That's literally the third time you've mentioned her since we stopped dancing five minutes ago and you've only said three things, apart from ' _yeah'_."

Jake hesitated and guiltily caught Robin's eye. He swallowed a mouthful of lager and bit his lip.

"Sorry," he said.

"You even asked the barman for half a lager and a bottle of Marci water."

" _Mineral!_ I said _mineral_ water!"

"You might as well have done," Robin told him. He drank more of his alcopop and leaned closer. "What's the deal, Jake? After last night I thought she'd be the last person you wanted to see on the dance floor."

"Yeah, well." Jake sounded whiny. He _felt_ whiny. He stared at the table and started drawing doodles with his finger in the pool of condensation his beer had left. "We made up. Had a really good day, actually. Took her out to meet a new snout,"

"Yeah?" Robin wasn't sure how much he'd caught of Jake's words over the loud music and cheering but he saw Jake visibly brighten as he talked.

"Yeah, she was back to her old self. My Marci." The words slipped out before Jake could hold them back. "The Marci I know," he said louder, hoping Robin hadn't heard his slip, "more like herself."

"That's good," Robin nodded as he shouted over the music. He studied the expression upon Jake's face; the redness in his cheeks was caused by more than the booze and dancing. Robin knew that. He'd known that for a long time, and he wasn't the only one. "Jake," he began, not sure the club was the best place to address the subject, "you know, if there's... _anything.._. you want to talk about..." he swallowed as he noticed Jake looked stricken suddenly. His eyes bolted for a moment as he backed away and shook his head.

"What do you mean?"

"Anything about Marci," Robin continued. _Shit_ , this wasn't his place to bring up, was it? He could see that Jake was looking more uncomfortable than he had the night his Tardis boxers had shrunk in the wash. He tried to turn it into a joke, playfully nudged Jake across the table and asked, "You don't have the hots for her or something do you?"

Jake's expression stayed frozen in time for several second before he wrestled himself out of his frozen terror. He spluttered, drank a hell of a lot of water, wiped his lower lip carefully with his fingers and climbed to his feet.

"Do me a favour," he said a little too loudly, "you _know_ Geri's my favourite Spice Girl."

" _Ex_ -spice girl," Robin blurted before realising how crestfallen Jake looked at the reminder. _Shit_. "Sorry," he said, slamming his hand over his mouth. He might as well just leave his foot right in there for all the good he'd been that night. He didn't want to see the veil of dark cloud fall back over Jake's face. It had spent too long dulling his features recently. He quickly drank the rest of his fruit flavoured monstrosity and got to his feet. Ugh, he wasn't sure about the whole alcopop craze. Had it killed off half the youth population in the late nineties from revulsion? "Look, let's just get back on the dance floor," he said, grasping Jake's hand and giving it a firm squeeze, "let's enjoy the night, OK?"

Jake gave a half hearted smile and they both rejoined the throbbing, pulsing mass of human flesh moving to _The Power of Goodbye._ Soon the strobe lights and the movement of their bodies took away the worries that plagued them both. And as the room darkened and starlight fell, everyone marvelled at the nightclub's new effects and no one went home any the wiser at the end of the night.

~xXx~

Kim felt a little awkward and anxious as she clasped the bag of food and slammed the door of the Fiat. She stared at the building and gave a jaded sigh. It hadn't been all that long ago _she'd_ owned the keys to that place. She'd only been back there once since those dark days. It seemed both cruel yet fitting that Em had been given that same property. Em was, after all, under her remit according to Gene, even though Em should have had no place in the station. Em wore Kim's old clothes, she slept in her old bed, she even _looked_ like Kim under the right lighting; tattoos, piercings and bleach-blonde hair.

But Em was on the wrong side of the line.

Feeling more nervous than she supposed she had any right to be, Kim trudged the path up to the doorway and hesitated for a few moments. How long had she been back in Gene's world now? About a year and a half? And of that time she'd spent over a year at Fenchurch East with her own department and all the trimmings that came with it. She felt fulfilled and happy in all aspects of her work, from the tough DCI who always got the job done to the talented artist who tattooed keen clients once a month at a local studio. But there was one are in which she felt completely, undoubtedly out of her depth and Em was the embodiment of it.

" _Em?"_ she reached up, slightly hesitantly, and knocked on the door, _"Em, it's me. It's DCI Stringer. Let me in."_ She sounded too demanding for a casual night-time visitor and cursed herself. Em was more likely to jump out the toilet window than anything now. She sighed and tried a little more softly, _"Em?_ Sorry it's so late. Just brought something for you." Now she sounded like some distant aunt who'd turned up unannounced with a box of chocolates for a belated birthday gift.

She knew it came with the territory. Of _course_ it did, that's what she was there for. She was _the new Gene,_ just as Alex, Simon and Robin had been. She was there to help the souls of others move on, usually to the pub, occasionally back to where they had come from. She'd always known that sooner or later there would be someone turning up at the station, yelling and swearing and demanding to know whether their office was and why mobile phones were three times larger than they remembered. She'd _been_ there. _Simon_ had been there. Alex, Robin, Sam, Eddie, Vickery, Kay – the list grew longer all the time and whilst the _floaters -_ as Gene so nicely put it - were rare they caused as much trauma for whichever poor DCI they worked for as they went through themselves.

At least that was the _traditional_ way things worked. Evan's book had, quite literally, rewritten the book for _everyone_. Kim knew that it would. She'd fought tooth and nail to keep it out of the public eye, but her plunge into the _Sam Tyler Splat Zone_ had put paid to her fight. Em had been the first of what she knew would be a long line of people who knew what they were walking into. Not that it made things any easier for the poor sucker who stepped in front of the wrong bus or ate the wrong prawn sandwich but it – theoretically - made the job of their DC a lot easier.

However Em's arrival had caused Kim and the others to question where the boundaries lay now. What could and couldn't they say to people like Em who arrived cursing _Evan Bloody White_ for making them dream about the strange police station? There had been no time to discuss procedure when Em arrived amongst the pencils and paints of the art school in Reigate on that hot, summer's day. Kim had to learn on the fly how to approach things and the _ignore-it-and-pretend-nothing's-wrong_ approach certainly didn't cut it any more.

A few frank discussions with Em had given the stranger some sense of normality about their situation but that had given Kim a false sense of security and she'd let her eye slip from her unusual recruit. Her own life and work stuff had taken priority. She'd spent some time standing in for Gene during his honeymoon and then almost immediately she'd discovered she was pregnant and had taken a little compassionate leave to get used to it, along with Robin. It was the idea of having to go all the way back to the art college that made Kim realise how much she'd been neglecting her recruit. She'd taken a good look at Em's empty expression, pale skin and growing pile of pencils and felt extremely guilty. Em was becoming a shadow of herself and that wasn't the way to get home. Kim knew there was never an easy route back but Em needed the strength to fight.

Which was how Kim had come to stand on her doorstep with a bag of fries in her hand at half past ten at night.

She'd been looking forward to some time to herself to think when Robin left for his night out with Jake. But the more she'd thought, the more out of her depth the started to feel. Taking on the role of 'Gene' wasn't an easy one. Simon had found it exceptionally hard and there had been a great deal of hand-holding from Gene in particular for a very long time before Simon felt qualified to fill those boots. He in turn had been able to help Robin as a newbie, but with Kim's arrival the hand-holding had been forgotten.

She was Kim. She just got on with things. _She'll be fine. Leave her to it._ And usually that was the case. But that made it even harder to admit to how badly she felt she was fairing with Em.

"Em?" Kim tried again. She knocked on the door for a third time. Where _was_ she? Maybe she was out? Nah, Em didn't _go_ out. Kim was sure of that. _"Come on, the fries are getting cold."_

That seemed to do it. _The magic words._

There were a few footsteps and a scrambling noise as the chain was removed from the door, then a moment later Em's face peered out cautiously.

"Did you say fries?" she asked

Kim smiled inside as she held the bag aloft.

 _Success._

~xXx~

"That was," Simon wiped his mouth on a napkin and laid it down beside his empty plate, _"perfect."_

James felt his cheeks flushing just a little from Simon's compliment. He wasn't sure how he actually felt about what he'd just done. He couldn't remember ever cooking a meal in his life before but he'd heard much about his brother's culinary prowess and was aware that his father had made his living as a chef. Throwing together some shop-bought goodies seemed like very little in comparison but it was a start. He didn't want to be Robin but he wanted to spoil Simon and to try to make it up to him for behaving in such a childish way. He felt like he was learning how to live. How to be a human being again. Ready meals and tinned soup were a good step in that direction.

"Sorry it wasn't anything fancy," he said with some embarrassment, getting to his feet and taking the plates to the sink.

"What are you talking about? You even put chocolate buttons in the Angel Delight," Simon reminded him and James smiled. It wasn't exactly the height of modern cuisine but it was a touch that Simon seemed to appreciate. He started to run water in the sink bowl and added a big squirt of washing up liquid to the equation. Whilst they were eating they'd kept the conversation light, still both a little nervous after their first fight, but James had burning questions that he needed answered and they weren't going to get any easier to pose. He felt arms around his waist as he turned off the tap.

"Go and sit down," Simon said gently, "you're not washing after you made dinner."

" _Made,"_ James laughed gently but his laugh was stilted. Those questions were getting in the way. "I only opened the bloody tins." Nonetheless he stepped back to let Simon through but as Simon rolled up his his shirt sleeves he hung back. "You, um," he cleared his throat nervously, "you never told me what happened. With Hunt."

Simon looked around, somewhat surprised. He knew they'd have to pick up their conversation again eventually but he hadn't anticipated it so soon. He cleared his throat and looked down at the bubbles as he started to scrub at the plates with the dishcloth.

"You were right," he said quietly, "about me and about Gene. He shouldn't get a pass just because _that's who he is_. That kind of behaviour isn't right. And I shouldn't let it happen just because I've heard it all before. Yeah, you were right, Gene's a joke at this point; a dinosaur on the rainbow. No one takes him seriously. But not everyone is used to him and when you walk in and he uses those same words, the ones I've just stopped listening to because they have no meaning,... well, it hurts. And he hurt _you_ , right in front of me, and I didn't see it. Or I chose to ignore it, which is even worse. And I'm genuinely not sure which one it is." He placed plate after plate in the drainer as he spoke, trying to keep busy as he made admissions that shamed him. "Last night was a mess. I shouldn't have fixed the thing up without telling both of you who was going to be there and I certainly shouldn't have ignored what Gene was doing."

"I should have just told you what was happening," James admitted, but I was a bit -", he pushed back his hair and straightened his glasses, " _freaked out_ by the whole thing to be bloody honest with you. Gene. Pubs. Football. Drunken idiots. And the slurs."

"Yeah," Simon said quietly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, starting work on the cutlery. "I told him straight. He's not getting a pass just for being Gene Hunt."

James stared at Simon, somewhat surprised.

"How did he take that?" he asked.

"Not very well," Simon admitted, but I didn't give him much chance to come back at me. I spent hours hiding, expecting a filing cabinet surprise. But no." He started to fill the cutlery compartment with soapy spoons, "he actually asked us to join a CID case tomorrow."

James looked at him incredulously.

"Both of us?" he asked.

Simon nodded.

"Yup."

James hesitated. He blew out his breath slowly and gave a tight shrug.

"Not sure I'm up for that to be honest with you, Si."

"I think it would be good, for _both_ if you," simon plonked a couple of glasses on the drainer and reached for a towel to dry his hands, " _and_ for me. "

James moved across to the table where Simon joined him.

"What do you mean?"

"I need someone to ground me," Simon told him quietly, "I've spent so long in this bubble. I need someone to remind me what's right and what's wrong. I mean, where Gene's concerned. I used to be shocked by every word out his foul mouth, but I guess I just became," he shrugged, " _desensitised_ to everything. You do, over time."

James swallowed, nodding nervously. The last thing he wanted was to spend any time in the presence of Hunt or CID's investigation but he would do it. _For Simon._

"OK," he said, "I'll do it."

The smile Simon gave him made it worthwhile.

"You feel like going out somewhere?" he asked and James felt a sense of panic coming over him.

"What do you mean?" he asked anxiously, "go where?"

Simon shrugged.

"Anywhere?" he said, "pub?" he flinched, "OK, maybe not. Club then?"

James almost drew back physically in his chair. The dance floor wasn't really his scene at the best of times.

"Not with half a ton of food inside me," he excused himself.

"Nah," Simon sighed, "maybe you're right. Cinema then? See what's on?"

James shook his head.

"Just be Titanic, as usual," he shuddered, "honestly, Simon, I'd just rather stay in if that's OK."

Simon gave a little shrug and a smile.

Sure," he said, "we'll take the rest of the wine through and watch some videos."

"Sounds great," James said with relief. He got to his feet, grabbed his glass and the bottle and began to follow Simon through. The thought of going out wasn't one he was ready to contemplate yet. The previous night had given him a reality check. The late nineties weren't the friendliest place to be. And whilst they weren't exactly in the dark ages he wasn't ready to be out and proud.

The question was, would he _ever_ be ready?

~xXx~

Em didn't want to admit how hungry she'd been but it wasn't easy to hide it when Kim lined up a row of Burger King fries on the table in front of her.

"Help yourself," Kim told her.

"I don't get it," Em looked at her blankly, "I mean, I'm confused. What are you dong here, Guv?"

"I had a work thing to ask you about," Kim told her. It was half a lie. She _did_ have a work thing to talk to Em about but it certainly could have waited until the morning. The fries on the other hand weren't going to last that long.

"But what's with the Burger King," Em asked. Her hand hovered over the food, dying to tuck in but nervous to start without knowing why her table was covered in fries.

"Rob- Inspector Thomas went out for the evening so I thought I'd grab a takeaway," Kim bluffed, never sure how to refer to Robin with colleagues out of hours, "and I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone."

Em looked back at Kim.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Kim nodded and Em's resolve vanished. She grabbed a bag of fries and started to dig in. _"Ohhhh,_ I forgot how good these used to be," she moaned as she practically inhaled the first few, "when they used to salt them as they cooked them and they had the crunchy coating outside. "These are," she crammed a few into her mouth and tried not to burn her tongue on them. She swallowed them quicklly, " _perfect_ ," she sighed happily, trying to ignore the burning in her throat. "I need a drink." She stood up again and hurried toward the kitchen. Kim stared at the fries, abandoned on the table. Em was right. Burger King fries _were_ perfect in 1998. And there they were, all lying there on the table, inviting her. Her hand hovered guilty above them as Em called out, " _Would you like something to drink?"_

"Uh," Kim drew her hand back, "I'll have a coke if you've got one."

She stared at the fries again. They were calling her so loudly. _Kim_ , they sang, _eat us. We're delicious._

"Damn you, damn you all," she told them, grabbing a handful and throwing them into her mouth, chewing them quickly even though they were as hot as damnit. She cursed silently and spluttered a little as they set her mouth on fire. _Worth it._

"Here." 

Kim was relieved to see the can arrive in front of her and she opened it hurriedly.

"Thanks," she said, taking a large gulp to soothe her burning tongue. She bit her lip guiltily as Em sank back into her seat and picked up her fries again. She still felt a little odd abut the situation. She supposed it wasn't normal for your Guv to arrive with a takeaway when they wanted to talk business. At the same time, the fries were too good for her to feel that bad about it and she'd been in dire need of a substantial meal as her stomach proved by rumbling in protest at her hesitation. She looked down, at the fries, _anywhere_ but at Kim in sheer embarrassment and started to eat as quickly as possible without burning her mouth again. She paused for long enough to ask,

"What did you want to ask me about?"

"Can I have one of the fries?" Kim blurted, chomping down on her lip and putting her hand over her mouth. "Oops, I mean, tomorrow night, we've got an operation."

Em chewed another fry.

"What kind of operation?"

"DCI Hunt will brief us tomorrow morning but I need a partner to join me."

Em glanced at Kim, feeling a little anxious.

"Should you be _going_ on an operation now?" she asked, glancing at Kim's bump. Kim followed Em's gaze and her hand moved to her middle involuntarily.

"We're not going to be in the thick of it," she promised Em, "Guv needs a lookout party. You'll be in the Fiat with me." She paused, "I'll bring more of these," she grabbed one of the fries and threw it into her mouth before Em knew what was happening. She laughed a little nervously.

"Would you like one...?" she held a bag of fries in Kim's direction and Kim considered putting on an _oh no I couldn't possibly_ front but her need for Burger King overcame it.

"Yes please," she said, grabbing it before Em could change her mind.

"I assumed half was yours anyway," Em mumbled as she ate.

"No. There would have been a lot more if it was," Kim blurted before she could stop herself. She decided to throw a handful of fries in her mouth before she could make any further admissions.

"So what happened to the takeaway you were supposed to be getting for yourself?" Em asked and Kim glanced down with a red face of shame.

"Ate that on the way," she mumbled, "so, about this operation..."

Em polished of the bag of fries and reached for another, sipping her coke in between them.

"Yeah, about that," she looked at Kim guiltily, "not sure I'm going to be able to do that."

"Why? Going for a boozy night out?" Kim asked sarcastically, pulling a face.

Em rolled her eyes a little.

" _No,"_ she said, "I just don't think I'll be very useful. Unless you need someone to sharpen the steering wheel."

"No sharpening, no pencils, just three hours overtime and a bag of Burger King," Kim promised, "Em, I know this isn't your job but I just need someone to sit there with me. Literally, that's all. I need a partner for procedural reasons, and I need conversation to keep me sane."

"You really want to spend the night putting up with a pouty twenty-sixteen person?" Em asked and Kim raised her eyebrows. That was the first time Em had pinpointed a year of origin. That was progress, Kim couldn't help but feel.

"Who _else_ am I going to take?" she asked, "the rest of my department aren't exactly _Conversation Central._ Not unless I want to have a three hour lecture about the finer points of Simon Shoebury from my DS or spend the next twenty four hours picking staples out my interior." She saw a tiny smile flash across Em's face at last. "You see? You can't leave me with them. I need you."

Em fell silent, eating her fries as she mulled over Kim's offer. The thought of doing something so different was terrifying on so many levels. The thought of spending the night having a conversation with someone she barely knew scared her for a start. True, she and Kim had hit it off in the past, but after a fun night and a wholly embarrassing game of truth or dare Kim had been swept up in changes both to her working and private life and their initial bond had never been revisited. _Until now,_ Em silently nodded. Kim's visit had given her an unexpected boost. She acknowledged that much. Maybe the night wouldn't be so bad after all.

"OK," Em said eventually, her nervousness showing through in her words.

"So you'll do it?" Kim asked and Em nodded. _"Thank you,"_ Kim breathed a sigh of relief for more than one reason. She needed to get a grip on her real role in the world. Em didn't belong there and needed to get home. Leaving her to rot away, sharpening pencils all day, wasn't going to help. Plus she couldn't stand the thought of hearing her boring DS talk about Simon's _manly chin_ for three hours. She finished the bag of fries and took a large gulp of coke to wash them down. She tried to burp discretely, then accidentally let out a monster belch and glanced awkwardly at Em. "I should probably go home and leave you to finish these in peace," she said.

"You don't have to," Em said a little awkwardly, "I wasn't busy or anything. I'll only be, um, eating these," she eyed up the fries, hoping they weren't going too cold and glanced at Kim who was also eyeing up the fries. She coughed and blushed.

"No, I'd better go," she said again, getting to her feet before she muttered, "otherwise you won't have any left." She finished her coke, hiccuped and put down the can. "Thanks for the drink."

"Least I could do," Em said, feeling a little embarrassed about the whole situation. She got to her feet and told Kim, "I'll see you out."

"No, that's OK," Kim told her, stay here and eat your fries."

"I'll bring some with me," Em said, grabbing a bag and Kim nodded approvingly.

"Good compromise," she agreed.

Em felt disturbed as she walked Kim through to the door, but disturbed in a good way if there could be such a thing. She had become so used to her empty shell of a non-existence; _waking, going to a job that didn't need her, performing mind-numbing tasks until the day ended and she would go home to stare at TV shows she'd watched twenty something years before._ Kim had walked in and shaken up everything with a ten minute visit and a bag of fries.

As she waved Kim off and watched her climbing into the Fiat she felt the strangest twinge of excitement, as though something was happening, maybe changing. She felt lifted both from Kim's offer and from the food in her belly. She hadn't been very good at taking care of herself in those dark days she'd been living through for the second time. She glanced down at the half finished bag of fries in her hand and clutched them tightly. The warmth from the food felt like a sign, waking up her numb fingers and her numb heart.

 _Speaking of which,_ she thought to herself, _it's probably time to close the door._ Kim was already driving away and her fries were getting cold. It was a cold, frosty winter's night and no place for junk food.

She closed the door and returned to the rest of her fries, leaving the pitch black sky to twinkle with impossibly intense illumination.


	9. Chapter 8: To Hold You Tonight

**Chapter 8**

The following morning saw CID turning into what Gene described as _a classroom getting ready for a coach trip to the bloody zoo._ His usual department had been joined by individuals from around the station who were key to the night's operation but there was a distinct vibe of everybody pairing up with whoever they wanted to sit next to on the coach home from the zoo.

"And who will _you_ be sitting next to, Gene?" Alex asked with a smile as Gene peered out of his office at the oddly raucous crowd.

Gene drew in his breath and flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles as he answered;

"Whoever's got the biggest ruddy bag o' sweets." He opened the door and stepped out into the chaos, watching the gathered individuals settle down like someone had brought out a nice pot of tea to soothe their over-excitement. "Can we get some order into this monkey house?" he demanded, "it's just that, as much as I'd love to take you all for a school trip to the zoo, the Kellen Boys are slowly taking over our corner of this fine, glass-endowed city while you're all busy buying cups of peanuts to feed the animals." The chatter diminished and the gathering gave Gene their full attention. _"Right,"_ Gene moved toward the whiteboard and grabbed a thick pen, "you'll all be familiar with our friends the Kellen boys."

He turned to watch Alex move around the office, handing out sheets of paper to the gathering, each one containing a set of photographs for their reference.

"Guv," Jake's hand shot up, "is it politically correct to call them the Kellen Boys when one of them's a girl?"

"And this one's seventy two years old," Robin piped up, pointing to a photo.

Gene's cutting glare shut them both up.

"Well, I don't _know_ ," he roared sarcastically, "maybe we should run a ruddy contest to come up with a better name for them. Winner gets a straw bloody _donkey!"_

His team exchanged glances. They were used to Gene being on the volatile side but this was on the extreme side, even for him.

"Wrong side of bed?" someone mumbled and everyone froze as Gene turned his glare up a notch.

"We can do this here and now or we can do this outside the canteen during _Sprout Happy Hour,_ which would you prefer?" he boomed, bringing complete silence at last. No one felt completely sure whether they were doing the right thing or whether they were supposed to answer the question but it seemed safer just to stay quiet. "Glad we've got that sorted," Gene continued eventually.

By now even Alex was looking at him with a hint of trepidation on her face. It had been quite a while since she'd seen Gene like this. In fact it took her right back to her early days; those ignorant, innocent days before she'd found out the truth. Gene had been her Guv and that was all. Now she wore a ring on her finger that showed they were so much more, and yet the Gene who used to growl and shout and rule with fear seemed to be back for a guest appearance.

"Perhaps we should get back to the plan, Guv?" she suggested, hoping that focusing on the case at hand might help to calm his temper.

" _Thank_ you, DCI Drake," Alex felt somewhat admonished as Gene snatched the last sheet of paper from her hands, "I was _getting_ to that." He scanned the faces on the paper in front of him before addressing the crowd. "Right. The Kellen boys. _And_ girls. And mad old uncles. There's five of them. Freddy and Lewis Kellen; brothers. Smart, but soft. Not into the heavy business themselves. Might carry a gun or two but are too scared of getting shards of buckshot stuck in their ugly mugs to use the bloody things. Then there's Roy Kellen; old-time gangster of the west end. Taken partial retirement. Handed over his one time empire to his favourite nephews. Now he takes a back-seat but he's not afraid to throw a punch or shoot a man in the back. Be warned."

"Nice family," Simon commented without thinking, biting his lip in fear of a blasting from Gene but thankfully he seemed to be safe, this time.

"Then there's Rebecca Raith. _Becky the Bastard_ as she's known in murkier circles. Freddy's bird. Nice on the eye, first one in the queue to blind you with a bottle. And last but not least we've got Marcus McKee. Unknown quantity. Joined the boys after they took on some extra work from some poor sod languishing in the nick. DI Dawson knows all about that. Don't you?"

"Me?" Jake jumped at the mention of his name. He blinked a few times, feeling confused and worried that Gene was suggesting he'd been involved somehow but he relaxed as he realised Gene was referring to his meeting the previous day. "Oh. Oh, yes," he cleared his throat, stood a little straighter and pulled some notes from his pocket. "Marci," he paused, his cheeks starting to feel hot quite out of the blue, "DS Fell and myself met with one of the Guv's old snouts yesterday and he was _very_ helpful. The Kellen boys have taken on the contacts of Miller under a deal that's supposed to see him bagging thirty percent of every transaction but the boys are keeping the lot and aiming to get out the business and off into the Med in a few year's time."

"Unfortunately for _them_ they'll be going for a trip away somewhere closer to home," Gene told everyone. "Old friend of mine had all the information we need to pin them down tonight. Their original business is still their bread and butter. Forgery. Nice truck full of goodies on its way. Hot off the press."

"This could be our one chance to catch the Kellen boys," Jake began, "I've gone through the log book I got yesterday and after tonight they're handing over the direct communication with suppliers to other members of their inner circle and the chances are they'll do everything they can to cover their tracks. Nothing's going to stick if we don't catch them with the goods and the cash. That's why tonight is the most important operation we've had this year."

"My fairer half will be accompanying me at the head of the party," Gene took over the meeting, drawing a rough map on the board with a big dot to symbolise his car, "Dawson, you'll be mirroring us over this side," he added another circle and glanced at Marci, "I see you've dragged Nicey Spice back into the fold?"

Marci felt a little embarrassed as several faces turned to look at her. She felt her cheeks flush a little as she said

"Just for one night, Guv."

Gene grunted. He nodded, reluctant to admit that he'd missed Marci being around. CID had been a quieter and duller place without her. Plus she was the only one who made a decent cup of tea.

"Well done on your one-night-only acquisition Dawson," he said grudgingly and Jake glanced at Marci, smiling involuntarily. He found her looking back at him, a little smile crossing her lips. They froze as their eyes met and they both looked away, flustered.

"Shoebury is joining us as another _one-night-only_ booking," Gene carried on. He glanced at James and tried extremely hard not to pull a face of disgust in his general direction as he said, "He'll be bringing his Detective Inspector along for the ride."

James couldn't bring himself to look at Gene. After the pub incident he had a new contempt for Gene, different to the one that the dark part of him had held and wholly more valid than Jimbo's. He had little patience for someone whose work ethics were so loose and free whilst the personal asides Gene had thrown in his direction had left him with new scars that weren't healing over yet. He gave a vague nod. Gene was going to have to prove himself. He'd made it very clear that James was on a trial period. James, for his part, applied the same mentality to Gene.

"The Guv asked me to be lookout," Kim piped up, "I'll be parked on Taylor Road. They've got to come through that route to get to the meeting point. The other side of the estate is blocked off. Roadworks for the next three weeks."

"And you've apparently brought Damien Hurst with you," Gene scowled at Em who made no attempt to hide the glare she threw back at him.

"If you have any problem with it then speak to DCI Stringer," she said.

Gene glanced at Kim and shuddered. There was one person he wasn't prepared to mess with.

"No," he mumbled, "No problem. None at all," he glowered at Em. "But if I find any of those Kellen boys stuffed and mounted in the Tate Gallery I'm going to castrate you."

"And where do _we_ come in?" Robin asked.

"Need one of yer mutts to give the truck a once over," Gene told him, "They've started to get a bit of powder on their hands. Best to check."

"Fine," Robin nodded.

"And Sergeant Granger will be joining you for the night?" Alex asked, smiling. It had been a long time since she'd seen Shaz around and it felt good to have a familiar face back on board.

"For one night only, ma'am," Shaz smiled, joining in the theme.

"Right," Gene finished drawing dots on the map and threw down his pen, "read the information supplied by my glamorous assistant and convene tonight at eight. Any change to arrangements, I'll let you know ASA ruddy P."

The crowd started to disperse as they went about their regular day's work but Jake took a detour toward Marci's office. Something took him over and he couldn't stop himself from wandering off-course. He knocked on her door gently and called her name but there was no reply. He frowned. It seemed strange, he _knew_ she was there. He'd watched her walk into the room.

"Marci?" he called again. This time he turned the handle and opened the door slowly as Marci slammed a drawer shut and spun around.

"Jake?" she said quickly, "sorry, Jake."

She seemed flustered, her face looked alarmed and her hands looked stiff and fixed.

"Marci?" Jake began gently, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Marci said hurriedly, "Just lost something, that's all,"

"What?" Jake asked.

"I said I lost something."

"I mean, what did you lose?" Jake asked and felt Marci's reluctance to answer. "Marci? What's up?"

"Stars, apparently," Marci blurted before she could stop herself. Immediately she regretted it, but she couldn't take it back. She put a hand to her head and took a deep breath, "Sorry, I'm sorry, Jake. I'm just seeing things. Flashing lights or something. Must be getting a migraine."

Jake hesitated. He licked his lips slowly and his eyes moved upwards.

"Marci," he said stiffly, "did you see something?"

Marci swallowed. It was stupid; it was _ridiculous_ , of _course_ she hadn't seen anything.

"Don't be silly, Jake," she whispered, "what could I see up there? Apart from the smoke alarm and light bulbs."

Jake looked from the ceiling to Marci and back again.

"Are you sure you didn't see something?" he asked quietly.

Marci bit her lip. She wanted to ask why. She wanted to know whether Jake was asking her for a reason; for _the_ reason, the reason that he'd seen them too... the stars. The bright little lights that appeared out of the corner of her eye, setting off a shiver all the way down her spine, making her reach for her one comfort and vice.

But -

\- she couldn't

It was ridiculous. Stupid. And she _knew_ that.

"No, Jake," she whispered, "nothing. Just a silly great oaf in my room when I'm trying to find some paracetamol."

Jake gave Marci a nervous smile and edged back to the door.

"Sorry, Marci," he said quietly, "I'd better leave you alone."

The nervous smiles they gave each other were the smiles of two people who had secrets; _deep_ secrets, ones they should have shared long ago but for some inexplicable reason found impossible to do. The shimmer of light that echoed down the corridor as a moment of darkness had followed Jake back to the office reminded him that Marci was not the only one who might have been coming down with a 'migraine'.

 **~xXx~**

 _ **A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry it's been a while. I actually had a few chapters written and ready to be edited but I've had no time in the past few months because life has been crazy. Just to let you all know, my lovely partner Lucy and I are about to move house. More precisely, we're moving from a house to a boat! This has long been a dream of ours and one we put on hold for a while because my health hit such a low last year, but we decided 2017 was going to be the year we made the move. Not long after, the landlady told us she was selling up and we had until the end of April to find somewhere to live. You can see where this is going... It's been a long, hard 3 months of constant work mixed in with a hard health battle but we are on the brink of moving right now. This is a massive life change and one we hope will bring better health for me and more time and freedom for us both to enjoy creative activities we've been unable to work on for a while – including writing :)**_

 _ **We're going to be without power for a little while, but once we've got our battery bank sorted I'm hoping to be able to write more regularly than I've been able to for a long time. Thank you for your continued support - and while I'm here please wish my favourite OC, Kim Stringer, a happy birthday! Arse-piercings all round!**_


	10. Chapter 9: Close the Curtains

**Chapter 9**

Alex scanned the darkness with her binoculars, focusing firstly on Simon's car, then Jake's and finally sighed with some satisfaction as Gene jumped back into the car.

"The natural order of life has been restored," she said, wondering where Gene had found the large burger he was busily unwrapping and shoving into his awaiting, salivating mouth. "Where on _earth_ did that thing come from?!"

Gene chomped on his mouthful and swallowed it down.

" _Natural order's been restored,"_ he copied Alex's poetic tone and shook his head, "living with you for the last eighteen years has been like sharing me life with the slogan writing department of Clinton cards."

"You didn't tell me where you found that heart attack," Alex told him, pointing at his burger as he took another, inhumanly large mouthful.

"Nicked it from Stringer," he told her, "caught a shoofty of her lugging a big bag of burgers to stuff her ruddy belly with while on the job. Bet she's bloody charged it to petty cash an' all."

Alex looked at Gene with a mix of amusement and concern as he polished off another segment of the burger.

"When you got out of the wrong side of the bed... it looks like you stepped into the past at the same time," she told him.

"What are you jabbering about now, Drakey?" Gene asked, more interested in finishing the burger than in fielding Alex's attempts at inflicting her psychological training on him.

"This morning I could have sworn we were back in nineteen eighty three," she told him.

"I've only got two bites of this left and yer not putting me of with images of Ray Carling's unfortunate perm," Gene told her.

" _Your temper."_

Gene froze with one bite to go. He slowly turned to face Alex properly and swallowed the mouthful he'd been chewing. Suddenly the once delicious burger felt like sawdust, stuck in his throat.

"Spit it out, Bolly," he said tightly, "whatever you've got to say, let's get this over with."

"I haven't seen you bawl at someone like that since the ceiling started falling in," she said. Her voice had a strange tone to it; tight and nervous. She watched Gene put his last bite down with a small thump on the dashboard and he turned to her again.

"This is the most important operation we're going to be undertaking this side of the millennium and you're wondering why I'm a little bit _tetchier_ than normal?"

"It's more than that, Gene," Alex told him, "come on, Guv. This is _me_ you're talking to. I know you better than anyone and you know that. What's all of this about? Sneaking around looking at personnel files? _Eighties Gene_ screaming until Simon's ears almost bled? Paranoia about me having a bit of a sniffle?" Mentioning her cold reminded her how stuffed up she felt and she reached into her pocket, "There's more to this, and we both know it."

Gene watched her slip a Vicks inhaler up her nostril.

"Well, since you seem to know everything about me puny little mind you might as well tell me," he said as she took a deep sniff and rubbed her nose.

"I'm not a mind reader," she told him.

"I thought that was the whole point of psychiatry."

Alex didn't even rise to the bait.

"Stop trying to detract from the subject at hand," she told him, "it won't work."

Gene folded his arms haughtily.

" _Always a first time,"_ he mumbled.

" _Gene."_

Gene tried very hard not to look Alex in the eye, but somehow it was too hard to resist. He silently cursed himself. Now he'd looked at her she'd succeed in hooking him in. Now he had no choice.

"Bugger."

Alex reached out and laid her palm against his arm, squeezing him softly.

" _Talk to me,"_ she pleaded gently as Gene turned away and stared out of the windscreen.

"Nice night tonight, Bols," he said stiffly. Alex frowned, a whisker away from telling him to stop trying to change the subject. Before she had a chance he carried on. "Clear sky. So many stars out."

A shiver fell across Alex's shoulders as soon as the words had left his lips and she swallowed hard with anxiety. Her eyes followed Gene's gaze out of the car. The sky was clear and dark as Gene had said and there was a smattering of starlight punctuating the black but those were the stars they saw on any given night. Nothing unusual about them.

But that didn't mean there hadn't been starlight of a different kind.

"Gene," she began quietly, "have you seen something?"

Gene stared at the final bite of his burger, abandoned on the dashboard. He knew he was never going to finish it now. It was easier to look at it than it was to meet Alex's stare though.

"Bits of things," he said. His voice was still tight but softer now. He gave a sigh that felt like one of relief. Finally he didn't have to hold it in any more. "Sometimes I catch it. _Up there,"_ he glanced upward in a vague direction, "I know it's december but the nights aren't supposed to get dark at two in the bloody afternoon."

Alex found herself biting her lip anxiously.

"Stars," she whispered. She watched Gene lower his head and give the slightest nod. "When? When did it start?"

"Don't know," Gene said, a little more gruffly, "can't really remember. The old Gene Genie mind isn't working at the speed it used to, Bols. Could even be seeing things. Not like it's always there. Just sometimes. Round the corner. In the distance. When I open me eyes."

Alex swallowed involuntarily. She licked her lips and reached for Gene's hand, linking her fingers around his.

"I don't think I've seen them," she began, " _but_ ," she closed her eyes. There were moments, strange moments, there had been over the past few weeks. "I can't be _sure_ I haven't."

"You know something?" Gene began. He fixed his gaze on hers and tilted his face forward, "I wouldn't mind betting I know who's behind it."

Alex stared at him expectantly. There was a burning sensation though her skin from the anticipation of his answer.

"Who?" she whispered. As she watched, Gene's eyes focused on Simon's car where James sat in the passenger seat, sipping from a Styrofoam cup. "No," she shook her head, "Gene, you're just looking for the easiest answer."

"The easiest answer isn't always the wrong one, Bols."

"No, but," she watched Simon and James talking. As time had gone by she'd seen less and less of Jim Keats in James's face and the unthinkable had started to happen. She'd been able to separate out _James_ from _Jim_ and not once had she seen a glimpse of their nemesis. "James isn't Jim. And there's been no flames. Has there?" she asked.

Gene wrinkled up his face a little, wishing that he could report some but the only thing he'd noticed were glimpses of starlight that he wasn't even sure he hadn't imagined. The fires of hell that Jimbo had unleashed upon the walls of his station on several occasions hadn't made a single appearance since James took up his post in Simon's department.

"No," he admitted with a deep sigh, "Not been toasting me marshmallows."

"Then you can't pin this on him," Alex told him, "come on, Gene. I've been as uncomfortable as _you_ have about James being in our station but I can see he's not the same person now. You can see that, surely. As much as I know you'll always dislike him you can at least admit that he isn't Jim Keats."

"We don't know that, Bols." Gene looked at her grimly. "All that fire and smoke. That bad stuff. Where's it going if he's not taking it?"

Alex stared at Gene blankly. She had an answer for most things but this was one of those rare occasions in which she felt completely lost for words. It was true that Keats had been shaped by all the negative, opposite energy that was formed as a result of Gene and the others doing their jobs the 'wrong' way. But now that James had rejected it no one knew what had happened to the darkness.

"I don't know," she said quietly, "I don't know at all. But you mustn't blame James for something that you're not even sure is happening." She shook her head and flicked back her hair, gazing out of the windscreen. The dark sky bore a smattering of starlight still but nothing that looked or felt untoward. She kept her grasp on Gene's hand and squeezed it tightly as she continued. "but I promise you, Gene, if there is anything going on, no matter what it might be, we'll face it together. Just like we've always done."

Gene felt a surge of reassurance from every squeeze Alex gave his hand, but at the same time he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something not all together right about his world. He didn't know what it was, or how it had started, but something felt strange and off. Alex was right, he knew that. Whatever happened next, they would face it together. He just wasn't sure he wanted to know what they would find.

~xXx~

"How's your coffee?"

James slurped the mouthful he was in the process of taking and felt a little self-conscious and embarrassed, taken by surprise by Simon's question. He'd been lost in thought, a million miles away when Simon's voice had broken through.

"it's great, yeah," he nodded, "fine."

"Sorry about the slight aftertaste of foam," Simon told him, "Latte Land closes at six so I couldn't get their nice cardboard cups.

"That's fine," James smiled. He didn't care about the coffee if he was honest. Being part of a proper operation meant more to him than he thought the others would realise. He wasn't sure he would ever truly feel like a part of Fenchurch East but this was certainly a step forward and every step meant the world to him.

"I'm so glad you're here," Simon told him and James smiled over his cup.

"So am I," he admitted.

"I've lost count of how many raids and stakeouts I've been on and gotten stuck pairing up with Gene, or that twat Dawson or something," he sipped his own coffee, "I always used to draw the short straw. It never seemed fair. I mean, yeah, now and then I'd be working with Rob or Kim but usually I was stuck spending hours breathing in Gene's B.O. and putting up with his repertoire of Arnold Rimmer jokes." he shook his head, "this is the first time I'm on a job with someone I really want to spend time with."

A silent smile passed between them. It was comfortable; a little bashful in a way but very natural. Silences never felt awkward. That was something that James has realised some time ago. He drank up the end of his coffee and left his cup neatly to the side of the dashboard.

"I've not been on a job like this before," he admitted quietly, "I mean, I don't know if I ever _did._ You know... _before."_ he watched Simon nodding, "I don't remember. But before that, back when I was," he didn't want to say _alive_. He still wasn't clear on exactly how real that old life felt to him, back before the initial injury that sent him into his coma. To him that felt more like a dream, or a distant story he barely remembered. In many ways he'd been born on the roof that strange, autumnal day when he finally fought off the dark energy.

"Should be straightforward," Simon told him, "book told us there's a consignment of forged paperwork coming in tonight. It'll be hidden amongst some sort of cargo, usually something like toys or clothes, novelty stuff, something like that. It sounds like there might be two trucks. The Kellen boys are handling this one themselves. Must be important." he swigged the rest of his drink and tucked his cup inside of James's which made James smile. "Arresting the Kellen Boys is our first priority. If we can get the drivers as well then all the better but they're usually pawns to be honest. Often they don't know what they're carrying, or they only know the vaguest of details. But because tonight's such a big deal we might catch a bigger fish."

"Exciting," James couldn't help exclaiming. He felt a little embarrassed as he saw Simon trying not to laugh at his enthusiasm and he coughed.

"Yeah," Simon smiled, "hopefully it will be."

James looked at Simon and felt his embarrassment fading. Simon's smile set him at ease and he began to smile back.

"I'm glad I'm here, anyway," he said.

"Me too," Simon's words sounded a little breathy and he leaned forward slowly, closing his eyes and aiming his lips gently in James's direction. To his horror he watched James draw backward, his eyes bolt and brow furrowed. "What? Is something wrong?" Simon blinked and looked at him nervously, feeling slightly hurt by his response. James busied himself looking out the windscreen with a pair of binoculars.

"No," he said quietly, "I just think we should keep our minds on the job. That's all."

"I _was_ ," Simon said quietly, "I just," he trailed off, not sure how to finish his sentence. It was only a little kiss. It wasn't as though he was about to slip his tongue down James's throat and strip him naked. But as James's eyes moved toward Gene's car Simon knew exactly what was wrong, and, after the disastrous trip to the pub just a few nights before, he couldn't blame James one little bit. "Sorry." He stared ahead, watching for the legendary Kellen Boys to arrive and idly wondered, "do you fancy going for a drink afterwards?"

James didn't move. Behind the binoculars his expression couldn't be seen. He took a very long time to respond which felt even longer to Simon.

"Um," he began finally, "maybe. I think I'd just as well go home though and open a bottle of wine."

Simon hesitated.

"Not to the pub, maybe the club?"

"I'd rather just go home," James said a little crossly. He bit his lip and glanced at Simon, feeling guilty for his tone. "With you," he added, "just want to spend the rest of our evening together. Come on, we're losing most of it to these forgers. I don't want to lose the rest of our night to work. We'll be back in at nine tomorrow."

Simon nodded slowly. He knew what James meant but he could feel his heart sinking just a little. He had been imagining the team heading out together to celebrate, and having someone by his side to join in the merriment for the first time. But James was right, he did agree. Work had taken away most of their night. He didn't want to lose the last couple of hours to work stuff too.

"Alright," he agreed, "we'll open some wine and have a night in."

He was happy to see the smile return to James's face but there seemed to be an alarming amount of relief across it too. The pub incident wasn't going to be an easy one to get over. That was becoming clearer to Simon and he had no idea how to help James get past his fear.

~xXx~

"The Guv just stuck his tongue in – _eurgh!"_ Shaz put down the binoculars and shuddered, "This was a bad idea, sir."

Robin blanched as he reluctantly took the binoculars and peered through them into the distance where he could see Gene leaning close to Alex's face, his tongue looming near her ear and he immediately wished that he hadn't.

" _Ugh,"_ he cried, dropping them.

"I _warned_ you!" Shaz told him, "why did you look?"

"I don't know!" Robin cried, "It's an involuntary thing, isn't it? You know it's bad for you but you do it anyway!" he glanced at Shaz as she drank from a bottle of water. She was relaxed and their conversation had been flowing steadily but there was something about her that wasn't quite right. She'd lost some of ther sparkle. There was a strange sadness about her that she was trying very hard to hide. Robin chewed his lip anxiously as he built himself up to ask the question he knew she probably wouldn't even answer. It was funny how time had healed the one-sided rift between them. Shaz never knew about Robin's jealousy and Robin had seen first-hand that the love Kim had once had for Shaz had faded over time. As special as they'd been to one another it wasn't the same thing that he had with Kim. He _had_ , however, thought that Shaz might have found it with Marci but apparently he'd been wrong.

"You can stop looking at me, you know," Shaz told him, "I'm not one of them Kellen boys."

"What?" Robin hadn't even realised that he'd been doing it. He blushed and looked down. "Sorry, Shaz, I think I was daydreaming." He shuffled around in his seat uncomfortably as he watched Shaz watching him until eventually he said, "you know what I'm going to ask, don't you?"

Shaz nodded sombrely.

"And no," she said, "I'm not going to tell you."

Robin wasn't one hundred percent sure that they were talking about the same thing so just to be sure he asked,

"What happened with Marci?"

Shaz gave him the eye roll of the century in response and turned her head away, giving a gasp of disapproval.

"I just _said "_

"I know, I know," Robin felt bad for bringing it up, especially when he saw the look on Shaz's face but the question remained unanswered, "I'm sorry, really. But it was all so _sudden_ , and you were so _right_ together -"

"And it's _our_ business whether we're going out or not, yeah?" Shaz's tone was sharper than Robin had ever heard before. His concern only grew and he found himself in an impossible situation. If he spoke another word he risked a telling off for it and making Shaz angrier and more upset but if he left it well enough alone then not only would he always wonder but if something was wrong then Shaz might never decide to talk about it. He knew how bad it can be to bottle things up and file them away somewhere. Eventually they have to come back out.

"For what it's worth," he spoke up eventually, "I'm really sorry. And if you need to talk about it -"

"I don't," Shaz snapped before she could stop herself and found herself turning guiltily back to Robin. She bit her lip and flinched, worrying that she would be the one in line for a telling off now but Robin just seemed wary of setting her off again. "Sorry, Sir," she hung her head a little, "I didn't mean to snap at you. And before you ask, I'm really fine. And my mind is on the job so you don't need to worry about me."

Robin watched her expression again. There was a new darkness about it; a sadness that had come forth out of the distance and put itself in the foreground.

"Sorry," he said cautiously, "I didn't mean to imply that. I'm not sure that I did, but -"

"You didn't," Shaz's voice was quieter now but still had an edge that made Robin feel nervous, "I just wanted to make sure you knew that. In fact it was good to have tonight to take my mind off things. So I'm just going to get back to watching for the Kellen boys. And not watch the Guv's car this time," she added with a shudder.

"Right," Robin said quietly, "and good call about the Guv."

The little smile that Shaz gave showed that he was forgiven, if indeed he'd done anything that needed forgiving. But the sadness in her eyes remained. He knew better than to push Shaz any further, but between her reaction and Jake's worries Robin's own fears for Marci started to increase. For someone who'd been such a stable and positive influence on the station it seemed that her behaviour was becoming a cause for concern and Robin, for one, couldn't imagine for a moment what was at the bottom of it.

~xXx~

"Told you I'd make this worth your while," Kim busily unpacked the big bag of Burger King food, cluttering both the dashboard and Em's lap with fries and burgers. Two super sized cokes sat in front of them, slightly blocking the view and Em nervously removed hers so their look-out wasn't rendered pointless.

"You were true to your word," Em couldn't argue with that. She slurped from the cup and started work on the mountain of fries on her lap. She found herself becoming wrapped up in the delicious junk, just about remembering to keep an eye on the road ahead for the Kellen boys. As time went by she started to feel less out of place and relaxed a little more

"Em?"

As strange and mean as it sounded Em had started to forget about Kim's presence. She glanced around and licked the salt from her lips almost guiltily. This was supposed to be a stake out, not a feast.

"Yes, Guv?" She asked.

Kim hesitated.

"Why do you always call me Guv?" She asked.

Em swallowed her mouthful and looked at Kim curiously.

"Pardon?" She said.

"Why do you call me Guv?" Kim asked again

Em bit her lip.

"Did I do the wrong thing?" she asked, "should I call you something else?"

"No, no, I mean," Kim gave a little shrug, "not necessarily. Not unless you wanted to."

Em felt uncomfortable, made worse by the growing need to burp in front of the belch champion herself. She swallowed nervously and tried to explain,

"It just felt right. I mean, I know I'm not an officer or a detective, but but that's what everyone else calls you."

Kim hesitated.

"Why doesn't everyone call me Ma'am?" she mused.

Em gave a nervous shrug.

"You feel like a Guv," she said plainly.

Kim sat back and chomped on more of her fries as she thought about Em's words. She began to nod slowly. She got that. She'd never felt like a ma'am. The thought of anyone calling her that made her feel bad somehow. She was the Guv. Not that she was going to make that known in front of a certain DCI.

"For heaven's sake, don't let Hunt hear you say that," she laughed a little and Em laughed too.

"Mind you, anything to piss him off."

"Now you're learning," Kim laughed, raising her coke in the air.

"I guess so," Em smiled nervously, clinking cups with Kim. She began to start on her burger, bursting with extra bacon. Kim spotted the look on her face as the flavours started to spread. She smiled and took a slurp of coke.

"I told you I'd keep an eye on you," she said quietly and Em gave a nervous smile. She realised that without Kim's constant nagging she wouldn't have bothered eating at all that week. She nodded slowly as she felt her tastebuds welcoming the avalanche of goodies.

"Thank you," she said very sincerely. For a few moments the only noises were the sound of bags rustling and mouths chomping until eventually she licked her lips and glanced at Kim. "I told you a white lie."

Kim looked at her curiously, a handful of fries about to enter her mouth at any moment.

"What did you tell me?" She asked quietly.

Em looked down into her bag of food . She took a few moments to prepare herself, even though she could feel Kim's anxiety growing with every moment.

"It was easier to leave it like that; let you think I'd been knocked over or in an accident," she cleared her throat. "I wasn't."

" I said there was a car," she whispered.

Kim stared on, her brow creasing up in confusion.

"What car?" She asked.

"I got sick." Em stared at her lap, focusing on the food, half counting the fries, anything but to think about the words she was saying. "It was really fast. I felt fine that morning, just had some more pain than usual." Kim had noticed that Em seemed to have some difficulties with her movement sometimes but had never thought to ask. She felt a little uncomfortable.

"What was wrong?" She asked quietly.

Em wasn't sure she was ready to tell her the full story. If she was honest she felt scared to think she could become so ill, so fast. What was happening to her body back home?

"There's inflammation on my brain," she whispered eventually, "I'm scared."

Kim swallowed her mouthful loudly. She felt like she had to gulp it down to stop it from sticking. She coughed as discretely as she could and glanced down. What could she say? This was a different scenario to the usual _floater's_ story. She found herself leaning toward Em and laid her hand gently against her arm just for a moment. It's wasn't a very Kim-like gesture but nothing about Em's situation was text-book either. Besides, there was something about Em that made Kim open up a little.

"Whatever's going on out there I don't think it's going to get the better of you,' she said.

Em looked at her with curiosity.

"What makes you say that?" she whispered. She could feel herself shaking involuntarily. When Kim spoke to her it felt like hearing the almighty truth. Something about her made Em stop and listen.

"You got here on time for a start," Kim's words baffled Em, who watched her grab her drink and take a long slurp.

"What?" she asked.

"Your watch," Kim nodded to her, "It's still ticking. Right?"

Em glanced at her wrist and bit her lip.

"Yeah," she whispered.

Kim stared out of the window momentarily, not sure how much she was allowed to say still. She knew there were rules, but Em's situation had not only stamped on the rule book but also done a fandango while it was there. She took a deep breath and nodded.

"Remember, Em, as long as that's still ticking then so is your heart. Besides," she glanced back at Em whose face had turned pale and whose eyes were wide, looking for hope to cling onto, "you remind me of someone." She gave the briefest hint of a smile. "Yeah, you'll make it."

Em waited for her to carry on but Kim had already finished speaking and turned her attention back to her food. Em wasn't sure she understood half the things Kim had told her but then she wasn't sure she'd been the most forthcoming she could have been either. It was a weird situation and she supposed she and Kim were still testing the waters of a possible friendship. But Kim's insistence _had_ given Em a little more hope, and she filed that away with her own determination. She had to make it. _Kim had spoken._

" _Thanks, Guv,"_ she said quietly and turned back to both the job at hand and the pile of fries still sitting in her lap.

~xXx~

Marci kept her hands clasped around the Styrofoam cup of coffee she'd been holding for the last half an hour. There wasn't much left within it but it gave her something to focus on. She'd gone all day without taking a single tablet and she'd done fairly well but now she was feeling it. She remembered the withdrawal from the first time; the shakes, the headaches, the jitters, the voice in the back of her head constantly nagging her to take another pill. She'd been trying to taper down sensibly but there were two facts that had given her the impulse to speed things up. One was a severe lack of codeine and the other was the fact that shed been taking far fewer and for a shorter time than before. She supposed cutting them out would be easier this time, but after losing a tablet that she'd thought was in her desk for sure she'd had to push it a little too far, a little too fast. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she tried and failed to focus on whatever it was that Jake was saying. Her head hurt. It throbbed like a warning beacon pulsating inside her brain. She did at least have something to counteract _that_.

Jake glanced around at the sound of Marci swearing.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Marci plonked her cup down on the dashboard and flapped at her jacket.

"I spilt some coffee, that's all," she tried to snap but didn't quite have the strength to sound anything other than distressed.

"Are you OK? Did it burn you?" Jake cried, launching himself at the glove compartment, "I've got some plasters and some savlon in here..."

"No, no it's cold, it's gone cold," Marci stopped trying to flap away the coffee and gave a shudder.

"You're shaking," Jake felt himself starting to worry more. He looked at her hands which she immediately tried to hide from his view.

"I'm cold," she whispered. It wasn't a lie. It _was_ a cold night.

"Yeah," Jake looked a little apologetic, "bloody air conditioning isn't working very well in here today." He tried to turn it up a little and watched Marci reaching into her pocket. "Are you OK?" he asked as he watched her pulling out a strip of paracetamol.

She nodded, one eye slightly closed from the pain.

"Still got a bit of a migraine," she said quietly. Jake watched her try to press a couple of tablets out of the strip but her fingers were shaking so much that she found them immovable. " _Damn,"_ she cursed as Jake took them from her.

"Here," he said, "I can do that." He took out the elusive pills and handed them to her. "Do you need some water?"

Marci had her own bottle, plus half a cold coffee, but she didn't want Jake to have more of an opportunity to see her shaking.

"Yes, please."

"Here," Jake opened his bottle and handed it to her. He tried to keep one eye on the stake out but it was hard to concentrate when his mind was on so many different things concurrently – most of them Marci. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she gulped the tablets down, followed by a few mouthfuls of water, then handed him back the bottle.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Jake replaced the bottle lid and gave a slightly nervous smile.

"No problem." he told her. He glanced at her trembling hands and saw her give an involuntary shudder. "Jesus, Marci, maybe you should go home. You don't look at all well. I'm worried about you."

"No need," Marci told him, "Really," she turned to him and gave him a thoroughly genuine smile. Despite the secrets that had sprung up between them Jake was her oldest friend and looking into his concerned face gave her a sense of security and warmth. She didn't want him worrying about her unnecessarily though. "I'll be fine when these kick in. _And_ when I've warmed up."

"Do you want me to get the blanket out the back?" Jake asked her, "It's no problem."

"No," Marci began, but her cold hands and the thought of being looked after just a little spoke up for her. "Maybe."

"Hold on," Jake unfastened his seat belt and hauled himself over the gear stick to grab a pale green blanket from the back of the car.

"Why have you got a blanket anyway?" she asked him, turning around and finding one of his butt cheeks looming increasingly close to her face. She raised her eyebrow as she found herself checking it out and wondering if the other one was just as nice.

"Don't you remember what happened on the last stake out?" Jake asked, his voice slightly muffled by his journey back into the driver's seat and the layers of green fluff in front of his face, "the one with the Guv, the lava bread and eighteen chickens? I was stranded by the Thames all night with no warmth, no food and nothing to do. I swore that day I would never come on a job unprepared again."

Marci bit her lip a little guiltily, glad that Jake hadn't caught her sly ogling act and enjoyed the feeling of Jake tucking her up in layers of green wool.

"So that's why you've got the blanket," she nodded, "and that would explain the bag of muffins of the dashboard." she glanced around. "what about the _something to do?"_

Jake flipped down the glove compartment for a second time and pulled out a pocket sized book of crosswords.

"Never coming unprepared again," he said as he watched Marci throw back her head and give a genuine, relaxed laugh. _Ohh, that sound._ Jake had missed that. It made his heart do some very funny things he wasn't prepared to admit to but he couldn't help commenting, "Oh, Marci, it's good to hear you laughing."

Marci bit her lip. She knew her behaviour had been affecting others, Jake most of all. Guilt gnawed away inside her.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I've been up and down. I don't want to worry you and I don't want to make you feel down too."

"Is there anything you want to talk about, Marci?" Jake asked her.

Marci shook her head.

"I'm alright," she said quietly, "Let's just start watching the road like we're supposed to be doing so we don't get in the shit with the Guv when the Kellen boys sneak through with their fakey passports."

Jake smiled and grabbed the binoculars.

"No sneaking on our watch," he said. A moment of silence passed by before he murmured, "Just like old times."

"Hmm?" Marci glanced at him and he found himself blushing a little.

"It's like old times again," he commented, "you and me, out on a job, chaos ensuing."

"We weren't that bad," Marci grinned.

"Nah," Jake agreed, "We were worse."

"I miss you," Marci let the words slip out without thinking and found herself freezing up as Jake's head spun around to look at her. "I mean, working together," she added quickly, "Partners. At work. I mean," She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to catch her breath but something about her slip had brought out a little courage in Jake and he blurted,

"It's not the same without you. I mean, everything is different. Everything seems _wrong_. _I_ feel wrong. I'm even seeing things -"

"What?" As though someone had slammed their hands over Marci's ears and eyes Jake's words cut out the rest of the world. It felt like someone had shut on the brakes and the moment they'd almost shared ground to a halt as Jake froze up. He looked at her with horror. Those weren't the words he'd meant to say.

"I mean," he blustered, licking his lips which felt very dry suddenly, "it's nothing, I'm just being stupid."

"No-no you're not," Marci's words began to trip over themselves to exit her mouth as she spoke, "you said,"

"I didn't mean it literally," Jake's cheeks turned bright red as he tried to cover up his slip with a face-saving lie, "its a turn of phrase."

"No, it's not, you asked me earlier if I'd..." Marci hesitated. Her heart was beating at double the pace it should have been. Jake's eyes were wide as though he was frightened of what he'd said, or frightened of what he was about to say. "What have you seen?"

"I told you, nothing!" Jake cried, as flustered as he'd ever been. He thrust down his hand to prove a point and beeped the horn accidentally. _"Shit!"_

" _Jake!"_ Marci hissed, _"we're undercover!"_

"Yes, I bloody know that!" Jake hissed, ducking down for all the good that did him. He shuddered and shook his head. "I just want to leave it, OK?"

Marci looked down at her lap, biting her lip.

"OK."

"Good." Jake stared at the blackness out of the window for quite a while, his cheeks slowly returning to their regular colour. He took several deep breaths as he replayed their conversation piece by piece. What had gone wrong this time? Why had things ended up with a beep loud enough to knock birds from their nests ringing out across London? There was one part that came back to him over and over again and every time he replayed it he came up with a different reason for Marci's response, yet none of them stopped him from focusing on the first one. "Marci?" he bit his lip and glanced at her. She was staring into her lap. "Marci, have you..." he swallowed, "...seen... something?" Marci didn't respond. She didn't shrug, she didn't look his way, nothing. "Marce, when I said I... thought I'd been seeing things, did you..." her expression seemed to grow increasingly fearful, "have you seen... something?" he paused, hoping she would reply, but she seemed frozen in the moment. _"Marci?"_

Marci's head sprang upward

"Like what?" she whispered.

"Like anything?"

"Why would I have seen something?"

"You haven't seen anything?"

Marci froze, stuck between an admission that scared her and being unable to tell yet anther lie to Jake. She stared on, her lips apart, words threatening to flow from between them, but before they could escape an instance of bright light cut through the atmosphere, blinding them both momentarily. From Marci's open lips a sudden shrill scream came and Jake's eyes widened whilst his heart started pounding. Both sets of eyes turned upward but the sound of tyres on the road brought Jake's panic down to a tolerable level.

" _Headlights,"_ he breathed, "they were only headlights." But as he glanced at Marci he could see she remained unconvinced. "Marci? What's wrong?" inside he felt like he already knew the answer but he needed her to say it lest he found himself looking like even more of an idiot than he already did. "You _did_ see something, _didn't_ you?"

Marci's eyes turned to him, still shocked from the flash of light and her mouth opened just a crack.

" _So did you,"_ she whispered.

The pounding resumed in Jake's chest as a strange sensation of static filled the air. There was one word; one word he needed to say, one truth he had to share, but the moment he said it he knew everything was going to change. Change terrified him and never moreso than right there and then. But on this occasion, his courage prevailed and that one little word forced its way out into the night air.

" _Stars,"_ he whispered.

In the same moment he finished his word, the car's radio slammed itself on and a few bars of a song blared out. Marci and Jake both knew the song, yet at the same time had never heard it. The sound of Cee Lo Green's voice against the backdrop of a cold, wintry 1998 night shook up two people already on the edge but within seconds the song shut itself off and Kim's voice came urgently through the radio.

" _It's showtime. The Kellen Boys are heading your way."_

Jake swallowed and grabbed up the radio.

"Copy that, Guv," he said breathlessly; the sound of a lorry already rumbling towards them. He glanced at Marci whose expression was still fixed in the fear cast by that one single word, but this wasn't the time to talk about it.

The Kellen Boys were coming to play.

 **~xXx~**

 _ **A/N: Hey everyone :) I'm sorry it's been such a long time since I was last able to post. The first half of this chapter had been written last November, believe it or not, but over the last half a year my life has changed greatly. You might remember we were about to set off for a new life on the water. Just over a month ago we moved into our boat. I can't begin to describe how different our life is now. I look out on the sunset every night and count my blessings. I watch the ripples in the water as the ducks quack their way past the deck, hoping for a snack or two, and I can't believe this is my life. I can't sum it up in words. This is incredible.**_

 _ **Thank you so much for your patience and for continuing to follow this series. I have been dying to get back into writing and now that I have a new laptop (mine finally died just after the move) and an awesome solar panel to charge it with I am so looking forward to getting back into writing regularly. These characters have many more tales to tell before they head to the pub :)**_

 _ **And I cannot wait to write those tales on the boat that I share with the love of my life. The Robin to my Kim. I love you, my beautiful Lucy-girl xxxxxxxx Maybe I should send my OCs off for a boat trip some day. Really, I just want to see Simon pushed in the canal :P Sorry, Simon!**_


	11. Chapter 10: Tomorrow I'll Be Gone

**Chapter 10**

 _ **(A/N: Apologies for the long chapter)**_

Gene's knuckles were white.

"You're going to break those binoculars if you hold them any tighter," Alex warned but he barely noticed.

" _Come on,"_ he mumbled, keeping an eye on the flashy car ahead of them. Despite the dark evening doing its best to shroud it, its inhabitants could be easily identified. Lewis Kellen was sat in the drivers' seat, his hands gripping the wheel almost as tightly as Gene's gripped the binoculars through which he was watching the guy. Sitting in the passenger seat was a face Gene was less familiar with. Marcus McKee had only joined the Kellen Boys' murky inner circle relatively recently. Even so, Gene recognised him instantly.

" _Big Bitch One spotted heading your way,"_ Kim's voice alerted them to the imminent arrival of the goods.

With a roll of her eyes, Alex reached for the radio and asked,

"When did we agree that _Big Bitch_ was a good name for the truck?" she demanded.

"Think it was when you were on a bog break," Gene mumbled as Kim gave a slightly embarrassed cough.

" _You'll have to speak to the Guv about that particular code name,"_ she sighed, a moment before Jake's voice declared,

" _I can see the truck now, Guv,"_ and the distant rumble of giant tyres made itself known.

" _Target in sight,"_ Simon's voice added, only a few seconds before Gene's field of vision was impaired by a very large truck.

"Bugger," he mumbled, relieved when it removed itself from is position and parked up nearby. He grabbed the radio from Alex, keeping watch through the binoculars as he hissed, "Shoebury, you and yer detective inspector can deal with the stooge revving 'is way towards us right now."

" _Got it, Guv,"_ Simon's voice replied.

"DCI Drake and yer handsome leader here will apprehend Mr Kellen and his bat-eared sidekick.," Gene continued, "speaking of bats -"

A sigh from Robin could be heard over the radio.

" _What do you want me to do?"_ he asked.

"You and Granger get ready to check the lorry. Get that mutt inside and all over that vehicle to make sure we're not dealing with more than we've bargained for. Dawson, you and Nicey Spice can help the drool brigade check over the van. We're looking for documents, passports... papers hidden away inside that vehicle."

" _Got it, Guv."_

"Stringer?"

Kim's voice came over the radio again.

" _Yes Guv?"_

Gene sighed.

"You can stand down. Bugger off back to Burger King and let those of us without a belly the size of Birmingham deal with this."

He could literally hear Kim seething over the radio as she tried to contain her anger. Eventually she cooled down enough to say,

" _I think we'll stick around to see this whole thing play out, thank you very much."_

"Fine," Gene watched intently through the binoculars as two men left their vehicles and continued; "Remember, we need to see the money change hands. The whole operation is useless without the green handshake."

" _Roger that,"_ Simon responded, raising an eye roll from Gene.

"You sound like a twat every time you say that, Shoebury," he commented and fixed his sights on the confrontation beginning before them.

~xXx~

"You took your time," Lewis slammed the door behind him as he strode toward the lorry. The driver took a couple of moments to climb down and join him, his expression a little flustered.

"Yeah, well, frozen roads, y'know," he said, pulling his thick jacket around him.

"No, I _don't_ know," Lewis shook his head, "all I know is that I've been waiting here for the past ten minutes like a fucking egg sat in a cup."

The driver looked at him a little warily. He'd never heard that particular analogy and hoped this would be the last time, too.

"What?"

"The longer I'm here, the more chance there is of some fucking blue-light _spoon_ cracking me open, and this is my last time out on the job; get me?" Lewis looked for all the world as though he wanted to give the driver a slap around the ear but thankfully managed successfully to fight the urge. "You're going to be dealing with McKee in the future."

"Oh?" The driver wiped his nose on the back of his glove and looked at Lewis with surprise, "you moving on?"

"Just stepping back," Lewis, reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a large block of cash, "introductions after exchange. Everything go alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," the driver reached into his pocket for the keys to the truck and held them out, "no problems from this side."

"Good." Lewis held out his hand and the driver flipped the keys right into his palm. "Deal same as usual; another one of _these_ after the shipment's been checked and approved."

"Fine," the driver held out his hand and waited. He always dreaded this part; the moment of doubt. Would he be handed his payment, the prize at the end of the trail? Or would the Kellen Boys fuck him over and leave him knee-deep out of pocket? He needn't have worried – the Kellen Boys were forgers, smugglers, dealers and all-round bastards but they were true to their own.

Green met palm.

~xXx~

" _Bingo."_ Gene lowered his binoculars and reached for the radio, "All units go!"

~xXx~

The moment the driver's fingers closed around his oh-so precious wad of notes he heard myriad car doors opening and he _knew_ , he just _knew_ what was happening. Long before he heard the voices, he knew. His eyes closed for a moment as a deep sense of regret travelled through his body.

"Oh boll-"

He never quite succeeded in completing that expletive and had to let his feet do the talking for him. Clasping hold of his wad of fifties, he turned and fled but the flurry of footsteps that came his way panicked him. His initial instinct was to run for the truck but he'd only managed to get one foot up when a hand grasped him from behind. He could hear voices declaring that police were on the scene and that they should stop running but the voices blurred into one. He couldn't focus on anything and, in a state of wild panic, he spun around and landed a firm punch in the face of James who was taken by complete surprise.

" _Argh!"_ He gave an almost comedic-sounding scream and clutched his face, "Argh, my _nose!"_

Behind them, Gene's forceful acquisition of Lewis Kellen had gone rather more smoothly. One declaration of an armed bastard followed by the smooth click of a set of cuffs and the gentlemen was under Gene's control.

"Fancy seeing you here," Gene said smugly. His eyes turned to Alex hauling McKee out of the car and pressing him up against its side. "Text book operation," he added, his spirits taking a nosedive as he glanced across at the sight of Simon and James proving themselves deeply inept at outwitting the driver.

"He broke my _nose!"_ James yelled, sprawled across the floor in a pool of snot and blood.

The driver and Simon stood facing one another in a deadlock; each diving from one side to the other ad infinitum; the driver constantly a little too fast to be caught and Simon a little too fast for the driver to escape. They looked for all the world like somebody testing their reflection in the mirror to see if it could be outwitted.

"Jesus' sake, Simon, _get_ the bugger!" Gene yelled in a state of supreme exasperation.

" _I'm doing my best!"_ Simon cried as their motions grew a little faster until eventually the driver grew tired of the playground game and turned on his heels to make a dash for it. Simon leapt forward in one last ditch attempt to make an arrest but in the darkness his feet found themselves tangled around an old tree root and he tumbled forward as though someone had felled a particularly lanky tree. On the way down his hands successfully grasped a handful of trouser on either side of the driver and tugged him to the floor with a thud.

" _Oof!"_ the air left his lungs in a sudden burst and he cringed from the pain in his knees and palms. Notes fluttered around them, floating past Simon like large, expensive confetti as he tried to ignore the scrapes and scrazes he'd acquired long enough to scramble to his feet and make an arrest. Unfortunately the driver was both younger and faster and was back on is feet before Simon had raised a limb. Simon wasn't beaten yet though and made a desperate grab for the bottom of the driver's trouser legs, dragging him back to the floor with another grunt. Simon's grasp on the thick material tightened and he embarked on a quest to haul himself upward but the driver was only wearing the loosest of jogging bottoms so they began to slide downward.

" _You're under arrest!"_ Simon cried, getting a fifty in the mouth, but the driver just carried on scrambling forward along the ground like a slightly unwieldy caterpillar. Further and further down his legs slid those tracksuit bottoms until only a pair of _Robot Wars_ underpants remained. As his trousers tangled around his trainers he found himself finally trapped and restrained by Simon.

" _I can't fucking believe it's happened again!"_ Simon complained against the slight drizzle in the air, "I'm going to get a reputation for this!"

"Go on, sit on 'im then!" Gene barked.

" _No!"_ Simon cried but as the driver made a slippery manoeuvre and narrowly avoided being cuffed he seemed to have little choice. "Oh _fuck_ it," he mumbled and parked his backside on the driver.

Finally successfully restricted with hands cuffed tightly behind his back, Simon declared the driver under arrest and began to read one very annoyed and somewhat embarrassed driver his rights.

"Someone's on latte duty for the rest of the week; wonder who that's gonna be," Gene barked in Simon's general direction as a bloodied James helped to pull both the driver and Simon to their feet. He shook his head in general disapproval and turned his attention to the second wave of action. "Dawson, Batman, you're up."

It only took a moment for the second flurry of vehicle doors to open and close; first Jake and Marci approached from the left then a moment or so later Robin and Shaz moved forward with Shaz's dog leading the way.

"Guv," Shaz greeted Gene.

"Droll brigade," Gene began as Shaz's dog began barking, "take the mutt and check that lorry for anything unexpected. Once _you_ get the all-clear," he turned to Jake and Marci, "check through everything and see what goodies we've got." The barking became somewhat incessant and Gene glared at the dog, half-annoyed and half nervous. "No chance that thing has a volume knob, is there?"

Shaz leaned down closer to her dog with concern.

"Sorry, sir," she said trying to soothe her dog a little, "Kim's usually more laid back than this."

Gene smirked and glanced at Robin who rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Shaz named her dog after Kim," he said defensively, "want to make something of it?"

Gene sniggered to himself.

"Batman's dating a real bitch," he commented, risking Robin's fury again, but before he could retaliate the dog made a purposeful lunge toward Marci who gasped in shock and took a step backward. The din of the barking and the shock of the action left Marci so anxious it wasn't for several moments that she noticed Jake's arm stretched out in front of her as though instinctively protecting her from whatever the dog might do.

"What the _fuck?"_ she breathed, her heart galloping inside her chest.

Shaz glanced at Marci both awkwardly and with some spite.

"Sorry," she mumbled, not particularly sincerely.

The dog made another move toward Marci who, with Jake, both stepped back as one.

"Granger, control your animal!" Gene growled while Jake frowned at Shaz crossly.

"Did you train her to do that?" he cried, both incredulous at his own accusation and still unable to discount it.

The fury that rose on Shaz's face put him back in his place.

"Are you seriously accusing me of that?" she cried, jutting toward him quite suddenly and putting him in a nervous frame of mind.

"Well she's never done it before," Jake pointed out.

"And so just because it happens when I've broken up with Marci you think I've _trained_ her to attack my _ex?"_ Shaz's fury rose, "I thought we were friends, _Sir_. Not to mention colleagues."

Jake felt a pang of guilt. Shaz never called him _Sir._ They'd been firm friends from his first day at Fenchurch East. Now his outburst seemed to have changed everything. Nonetheless he couldn't let it go.

"Then why is she going after Marci?" Jake demanded as the dog moved toward her again, leading Marci to break away from the group and take several panicked steps backward.

Trembling, she felt an icy dread travel through her body. She didn't want anyone to see how shaken she felt by the dog's behaviour and tried desperately to hide her shivers. Her hand slipped into her pocket to avoid being seen and her fingers closed around the small, foil package that Jake had left in her possession just the day before. Oh shit... _oh shit!_ No wonder Shaz's dog was on high alert! She closed her eyes and swallowed. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't own up to having it. How could she explain the fact that she'd neglected to hand it in to the correct department? Even if she claimed to have forgotten she had no doubt that Shaz would jump to conclusions straight away. And since Marci herself had still not come to any conclusions about the eventual fate of the little foil package she couldn't even look her in the eye and tell he she was wrong.

"You can't just train a dog to bite your ex, don't be stupid," Robin interrupted.

"Actually, you probably could, Sir," Shaz began as Robin stared at her exasperatedly.

"I'm trying to back you _up_ here!" He protested.

"I'm not saying I _d_ i _d!"_ Shaz protested back, "just that you _could!"_

"Marci, are you alright?" Jake turned to her, increasingly worried by her trembling, fretful form.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she withdrew her hand from her pocket and tried to straighten up, "Just scared me, that's all."

" _Oi,"_ Gene's furious tone overrode their squabbling, _"menage-a-four!_ Can you get yer act together and sort that lorry out before daybreak?"

The four squabbling officers stopped and stared at one another for a second before the guilt and shame kicked in. Feeling a little like kids being caught out by the head teacher they hung their heads a little and mumbled an apology. Even the dog appeared somewhat abashed.

"Come on," Robin spoke to Shaz, "let's get the truck cleared and then we can get this over with."

"Alright," Shaz pulled against her dog's lead and _Kim-the-second_ followed her owner, despite seeming a little annoyed at having to leave Marci alone. Jake glared at Robin as he watched him walk away, somewhat peeved at being called stupid, then turned to Marci.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, certain he'd seen her shaking.

Marci's eyes focused on the floor before her. She marched up and down on the spot for a moment, watching her breath in the cold winter evening air as she exhaled shakily.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she said bluntly.

"That was -"

"Look, they've got the back of the truck open now," Marci interrupted at the sound of the padlock being cut and the roller moving up, "we'd better get ready to -"

The tail end of her sentence found itself forgotten as a sudden flash of light blinded her momentarily. It consumed both her mind and body as her eyes closed and her head bowed downward, flashes of memories blasting through her thoughts one by one. _Lights; stars, flashes of brightness in the sky, on the ceiling, in the air._ How many times had it happened now? How many times had she seen those stars, even in brought daylight? Even when _inside?_

" _...No!"_

A scream inside her mind dragged her back from the self-inflicted trance she'd slipped into and Jake's worried grasp on her arm followed like an aftershock, keeping her attention focused on the present moment.

" _Marci!"_

She didn't know whether he'd been calling her name for long or whether she'd caught the first try. How long had she been swallowed up inside her own mind? Looking around her it seemed like it could have been just a matter of seconds even though it felt like she'd been lost forever.

"What? _What?"_ she said quickly, desperately trying to shake off that scream... that painful cry and the sensation she'd felt when the voice cried out. Her hands clenched tightly as though clinging onto something before her. She could almost feel that 'something' in her grasp but when she looked toward it the illusion faded away. _Thin air._

"Marci," Jake stared into her eyes, more worried than he'd ever felt in his life, "what's wrong?"

His words were deep and earnest. They weren't the result of a panicked cry from someone who wondered why she'd freaked out at imaginary lights in the sky. It was the dark fear of someone who had known her inside out for most of her life and could almost read her mind. She looked at him, her lips dry and her mouth the same. Three words escaped before she could make another excuse.

" _I don't know."_

No sooner than the last word had left her lips a second flash of brightness reached the corner of her eye but this time she wasn't the only one stricken by the light. Jake caught sight of it for a moment too and just for a second his heart started to beat a little faster. _Lights. Stars._ Caught up in an instance of fear he felt a shudder travel through his bones and let his mouth swing open. He turned to Marci, ready to let a bundle of worries spill forth and feeling wholly unable to stop them this time, but within a moment or two the light that had stunned them both suddenly moved and brought with it the sound of tyres against gravel. Both Jake and Marci turned to watch as a flashy car with a bigger price tag than Gene's yearly bar tab made its way through the wood-lined trail and pulled up close to the lorry as though nothing was amiss.

For a moment nothing happened. The the driver caught sight of the myriad officers swarming the scene, allowed himself a lone second of thinking time, then flew into a frenzied panic. Even with the windows closed his expletives could be heard echoing through thee trees. His passenger most likely felt like they'd been through a severe syringing of their ears.

"Bugger me, it's Freddy bloody Kellen," Gene barked, "Yer snout didn't warn us we were in for a Kellen family reunion!"

As the closest officers to the car Shaz and Robin launched themselves forward and began to run toward the vehicle, which started backing up at break-neck speed.

" _Stop! Police!"_ Robin yelled as Shaz added,

"You're under arrest!"

His eyes wide and frantic, Freddy Kellen didn't seem to agree with her. He felt himself breathing faster as his finger jabbed at the window button and he watched it travel downward. Well, he supposed he had little left to lose. It seemed the jig was already up. He wasn't intending to go down without a fight.

The sound of gunshots brought everyone to a halt for a moment. They rang out through the still, clear night air. _One, two, three._ Freddy, it seemed, didn't have the greatest aim in the world, doubtlessly addled even further by some kind of trip. Even so, the last of the three shots was fallowed immediately by a pained howl and suddenly Shaz stopped running.

As she doubled over she could see blood already beginning to trickle from the hole in her leg, pooling slowly on the ground beneath her. Her mouth hung open in silence, unable to say anything or react in any way. Eventually a strange grunting noise managed to leave her lips as she dropped down to the ground.

"Sorry... sir," she forced herself to turn to Robin whose own mouth was open in shock as he stumbled toward her, "I can't... keep..."

" _Shaz!"_ Robin dropped beside her, immediately pulling off his coat to cover her, some primal instinct for care kicking in. He turned around to see a sea of faces frozen in shock, just for a moment. "Fuck's sake, someone call in an ambulance!"

" _I'm on it,"_ Alex spun around and dived for a radio while Gene barked in the general direction of Marci and Jake,

" _Get after that lump of life-gristle!"_

"I'm the first aider!" Jake protested while Marci only managed to cry out Shaz's name in a tearful tone, an arms flailing out toward her but Gene was having none of it.

"You're the only ones who can deal," he screamed, only too aware that his own car and Simon's were already holding the three arrestees of the night, "go and _roast_ the bugger!"

Jake felt torn in two; split dead between wanting to apply his first aid skills to possibly saving his dear friend from bleeding out and and wanting to kick the ass of the person who'd shot her. He took one last look at Shaz. He hated to admit it but she seemed to be in good hands already. Robin had picked up a few first aid tricks from Jake, it seemed. Now his job was to make sure Freddy would never hurt anyone again.

"Come on," he took a few rushed paces back towards his car but stopped when Marci failed to follow. "Marci, come _on_!" He waited for as long as he dared before lunging forward to grasp his partner.

Marci shook and stared at Shaz, only slightly aware of Jake's hand around her wrist, pulling her firmly back toward his car. It felt as though she'd lost her grasp on reality because this surely had to be a nightmare.

"He shot _Shaz,"_ she murmured, dragged to the passenger side as Jake rushed around to get into the driver's seat.

"I know, we'll get him," Jake said wiih complete determination.

Almost as one, their backsides dropped into their seats and Jake turned the key in the ignition. The sound of the key turning and the engine revving made Marci jump, as though someone had crept up behind her and clapped right beside her ear. Her heart jumped into her throat and she flinched. What the hell was _wrong_ with her? She had to pull herself together, for Shaz's sake.

Jake reversed a short way and turned the car around, just in time to catch a glimpse of Freddy's car zooming past them.

" _Hold on,"_ Jake mumbled, speeding up. As he encroached a little on Freddy's car a hand emerged from inside baring a gun which shot two bullets in the wrong direction and then tumbled from his grasp, followed by another barrage of swearing that even Jake and Marci could hear.

Marci grabbed the radio and cried,

"Suspect unarmed. Dropped his weapon, a _ccidentally,"_ she felt the need to add a little smugly, "now heading toward Sidlow Bridge."

But before Freddy reached the bridge he spun the car around and headed back in their direction, his fluorescent headlights blinding them both momentarily which led to Jake's language becoming as colourful as his own. With bright lights in his eyes and a car heading his way Jake shifted quickly into the wrong lane then thrust his foot on the brake and prayed desperately. He could feel his tyres scraping on the road and the car juddering to a halt for what seemed to take forever but with one eye open he watched the other car narrowly avoid hitting them as it sped off back toward the others.

Jake hadn't even finished letting out his sigh of relief when Marci's scream began. He spun around, not sure what he was going to find. Marci's hands were pressed to her face covering her eyes as she continued to scream.

"Marci!" Jake clasped her wrists and began to shake her gently, "Marci, it's OK, we're OK."

But from Marci's expression Jake could see that there was more than Freddy's stunt on her mind. Finally letting her hands fall from her face she turned to Jake. Her eyes were as wide as Jake had ever seen them and her chest shook as she heaved for breath.

"Marci, what is it?" Jake felt more panicked by Marci's reaction than he had done by the car heading their way, "what's wrong?"

" _Dawson!"_ Gene's voice cracked over the radio, "Update us, Dawson, what the bleedin' hell is going on?"

"Marci?" Jake tried again. This time Marci finally made eye contact with him, just for a moment, then she turned to stare at the steering wheel and finallydown at her hands. "Marci, speak to me," jae pleased, "what's happening to you?"

Marci's eyes flicked back to Jake's face, starting to glisten with tears of shock. Her mouth started to flutter open, just a crack. Answers threatened to escape but they felt too laden. How could she ever put into words what was going on inside of her head?

" _Dawson!"_ Gene barked again, _"That bastard just came screeching past like a bonfire night rocket! Now tell me why you're not on his tail!"_

Jake tried one more time.

"Marci?"

This time Jake's voice seemed to get through to her, just a little. Where the sight of Jake had heightened her panic so much a moment before, now the sound of his voice soothed her in a way nothing else could. Her oldest friend, the one she trusted most in the world.

 _The one I killed._

Fuck.

" _Marci?!"_

Marci's hands shook insanely. She grasped the handle of the door and rattled it, finally pulling the handle to open it wide.

"Jake, I'm _sorry!"_ she cried, barely staying upright as she began to race from the car, _"I'm sorry!"_

" _Marci!"_

" _Dawson!"_

Jake closed his eyes for a split second. He didn't know what to do. His brain felt overloaded. He didn't know who to deal with first. Gulping hard, he grabbed the radio and risked the wrath of Gene by urging,

"Send back-up after suspect. Cannot deal."

" _Dawson!"_ Gene sounded as angry as a hive full of bees who'd just met the MP responsible for a honey-making ban but Jake didn't care. The person he cared about most in the world was scared, maybe in danger, and needed him.

"I said can't deal, Guv," he cried, "Over!"

Throwing the radio down he scrambled out of the car and pushed closed the door. His eyes scanned the area for any signs of his dearest friend but there was no sign of her. "Marci!" he cried, stumbling first in one direction, then another, _"Marci!"_

The night was cold and still. The sky was clear and the stars were out in force. Folding his arms for warmth, Jake started to walk in the direction of an off-road track, then changed his mind and began to walk down another road instead. Marci could be anywhere and he had to find her. That's all there was to it.

Whatever was wrong, he needed to make sure she was OK. Her behaviour, their weird conversations, their moment of panic in the light... they all played around inside his mind. Something strange was happening, something that went beyond what he could comprehend. But he knew they could work everything out if they were together. And that was why he knew he had to find her.

Luckily there were enough stars above to light his way.

~xXx~

The only thing worse than watching the events unfold was hearing it. Kim stared at the radio as though it could explain what was going on. One minute the operation was concluding in a text book fashion; the next there were broken noses, gunshots and some kind of crisis she couldn't figure out that ended up with a suspect on the run and no one on the case.

"Guv?" Em piped up nervously. Her words were the first thing to break Kim's trance. She licked her lips slowly and tried to find her voice.

"Sergeant Granger has been shot," her voice came out weaker than she'd expected and she felt frustrated with herself for letting any ounce of vulnerability show, "she and I used to be..." she flinched as a wave of nostalgia swept over her, "we were close. Very close."

Em observed Kim's hands reaching for the wheel. She slipped her fingers around the curving plastic and tightened her grasp on it, her fingers twitching as though anticipating the next move.

~xXx~

As Gene reached for the radio Alex's hand swept across and grasped his.

"Gene." Her worried tone halted him for a moment. Almost reluctantly he turned to meet her stare. "You can't."

"I don't have a choice, Bolly," Gene told her grimly.

" _She's pregnant,"_ Alex's words were forceful and determined, "she wasn't even supposed to be part of this operation. She was just supposed to be the lookout."

"And now she's in the right place to _look out_ as he drives past," Gene told her.

"She's got _Em_ with her, she's not even an _officer!"_ Alex continued.

"She can jam a ruddy _pencil_ in his ears! We need to _get_ the bastard!" Gene growled, his hand moving closer to the radio.

"Gene," Alex warned, _"Gene!"_

Gene swallowed; a moment of unusual hesitation between him and his orders. His tongue flicked across his lips. Things were rarely black and white in his world but this choice had more shades of grey than a Dulux factory. There was no _right_ thing to do, so the only option he had was to do the _Gene_ thing. With a shake of his head he looked at Alex.

"I'm sorry."

Alex growled.

"I'm sorry, Bolly," he snatched up the radio against an impassioned cry from his wife and spoke urgently to Kim. _"Stringer?"_

~xXx~

Kim's breathing had been shallow and fast from the sound of the very first gunshot. She swallowed and picked up the radio like a reflex reaction to hearing her name.

"Yes, Guv."

There was a split seconds' hesitation.

" _You're up."_

Kim hesitated too.

"Repeat, Guv?"

Gene swallowed so hard that Kim could hear him over the radio.

" _We're in the shitter 'ere."_

Kim swallowed, one hand still clutching the steering wheel as the other held the radio.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked.

"Freddy Kellen's on his way," Gene told her, "If you happen to stop a speeding S-reg it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

Kim hesitated, glancing sideways at Em. She couldn't read the artist's expression. Her stare flicked back to the radio as she replied,

"I'm only supposed to be on look out, Guv."

There was a pause.

" _Then look out for a silver, speeding S-Reg."_

Kim ran her tongue along her lips and turned back to Em while her hand grasped the wheel a little tighter.

"You're not supposed to even be here," she said.

Em wasn't sure exactly what to say to that

"I know."

"It's got to be your call."

Em felt her throat dry out. It wasn't her call, not at all. She was a _hanger-on_ to the world at best and certainly had no element of command when it came to a job like this. She glanced at Kim's bump which had started to become really noticeable and asked,

"Can you do this without putting yourself in danger?"

"Yes."

"I _mean_ it."

"So do I."

Em could already hear the sound of tyres and a slightly out of control engine heading their way and knew there wasn't time to think about it any longer. She had to trust Kim's instinct and judgement.

"You'd better be right," she said. She swallowed. "Do it."

Kim's hand was already on the key in the ignition, like she'd been anticipating Em's decision. She didn't even wait a heartbeat to start up the engine.

" _Hold on,"_ she advised before her foot hit the accelerator and Em found her neck pinned back against the seat.

" _Bloody hell,"_ she mumbled and reached out to grasp the handle of the door beside her for security. She watched her empty coke cup judder along the dash board and threaten to take a flying leap into her lap but she didn't have enough time to process what was happening to feel anxious or scared. Either that or she just trusted Kim.

" _Gotcha."_

Kim changed direction several times in the space of a few moments and pulled out right in front of Freddy's car, far enough away for him to slam on the brakes but close enough to insure he had no chance of slipping away. Em held her breath throughout the screeching of tyres, from Kim's car to Freddy's, and finally let it go as Kim released her seatbelt and scrambled out of the vehicle She rushed towards Freddy who was already making a valiant attempt at slipping out of the car to escape into the darkness. Kim was grateful that she'd come prepared and reached for her gun.

"Fenchurch East CID," she exclaimed, "put your hands up!"

Freddy frantically looked from one side to the other, desperate for a way out, but he couldn't find one. Why the _fuck_ had be wasted his shots? More to the point, why had he wasted his gun? He sighed. Being 'wasted' was probably half of the problem. Reluctantly he gave in, raising his hands and turning around at Kim's gesture.

"Hands against the car."

Freddy edged forward and laid his hands against the roof. He peered in through the window where his passenger stared back and he gave her a slow wink.

" _Raise your head!"_ Kim barked and Freddy slowly did as he was told. With his head spinning from the last few minutes he gradually turned it around to meet Kim's eye. He gave her a smile; a sly, slimy grin that made Kim shudder and sent a tingling coldness down her spine. Nonetheless she approached him, frisked him quickly and pulled his hands behind his back. "Freddy Kellen, I am arresting you on suspicion of counterfeiting, smuggling and shooting a police officer," she began but as she fastened the cuffs behind his back the sound of a car door opening stopped her. Her eyes looked beyond Freddy and found both a gun and a woman staring back at her. Her heart felt like it was about to seize up in that moment as she swallowed. _"Becky the Bastard."_

~x~

Em shook her head violently and muttered under her breath. There was a strange burning sensation inside her, running through every single vein in her body. She'd felt uncomfortable just sitting back and watching in the first place. It might not have been her usual line of work but it wasn't in her nature. Neither was watching someone in danger.

She was the kind of person who'd spent her life planning for myriad _what if_ scenarios. She'd even had a zombie escape plan in mind for every property she'd ever lived. Those same _what-if_ scenarios had proven vital many times in the past for everything from dealing with a kitchen fire to helping a random cyclist who'd been hit by an arsehole with a flashy car and a grin to match.

Here, she was in a strange place, with strange people, out of her depth in a job that she'd never trained for. A job in which she'd never been used as more than a walking pencil sharpener. She had almost started to lose herself over the past six months. But sitting back and watching someone in danger was _not_ in her nature, no matter where she was.

 _Besides, this place isn't even real. So what do I have to lose?_

Her fingers wrapped around the door release and very quietly pulled it until the door locks released. _Good._ That was good. _Quiet_. Becky didn't seem to have noticed, too concerned with edging around the car, toward Kim. Her back turned more and more toward Kim's car with every small step she took. Em took in a very deep breath and let that burning sensation run through her veins again. She knew what it was. _Adrenaline_. Her body had known what she was about to do even before _she_ had.

Below the seat was Kim's steering wheel lock. Em nodded to herself and grabbed the clunky, metal object as fast as she could. She knew she didn't have long, and there would be no second chances. She had to act now, and she couldn't blow it.

~x~

"Becky -"

"Hands up."

"Becky, put the -"

" _I said put them up!"_ Becky screamed. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like Gene rushing for that final cup before Latte Land closed for the night. She closed her eyes and swallowed very hard, so hard she was scared that Kim could hear. She didn't Kim to know how much this situation scared her. It wasn't as though she was a stranger to violence. She was quick with a bottle or a fist but she had never, ever used a gun. She only carried one on Freddy's request.

" _I'm one of the big boys now,"_ he'd told her, _"and they'll all be hunting me. You need to know how to look after yourself, right?"_ She'd protested that she knew only too well how to look after herself but Freddy's idea of self-preservation meant bullets.

"Let him go."

"I can't do that," Kim's words came out shakily, her mind racing through the different courses of action she had open to her. She took a moment to string her thoughts together but it just didn't seem to happen. Her hostage negotiation training went right out of the window and she couldn't imagine how she was going to come out of this one in one piece. She closed her eyes tightly for a second, regretting her course of action. She'd put the decision in Em's hands but Em already knew what Kim wanted to do and Kim knew that. It hadn't been fair to place the whole decision at Em's feet. She thought of her baby and panicked. If she lost it now she'd never forgive herself. She looked at the cuffed Freddy in front of her, body still pressed against the car. Letting him go went against everything she stood for, professionally and personally.

"Undo those handcuffs," Becky demanded, trying to stop the gun from shaking.

"I can't do that," Kim began again but found Becky's hands suddenly all over her, searching her pockets for the key. She flinched as Becky found them and dangled them in front of her. "Wouldn't it have been easier just to give them to me?" she taunted, unaware in her revelry that Kim's eyes had flickered behind her for a split second.

"Not really," Kim said.

Becky frowned

"Why?" she asked just before a sudden, humorous _clang_ noise rang out and a pain seared through her head. The gun dropped from her hand as she reached up to clutch her skull, the world spinning and her scalp throbbing away. She howled and whimpered a vague demand for a confession from whoever had inflicted the blow but the sight of her own gun barrel staring back at her made her howl for a completely different reason. A second blonde who looked like a clone of Kim was glaring at her whilst holding the very weapon her own boyfriend had insisted she carried. "Oh for _fuck's_ sake!" Becky growled, raising one hand while the other stayed on her throbbing head.

"Put the other one up!" The second blonde demanded, then turned to Kim and nervously asked, "am I holding this right?"

Kim's heart rate hadn't even thought about returning to normal yet. She felt her pulse throbbing through her veins as she took hold of Freddy and begin to push him in the direction of her car. She raised her eyebrow and shook her head just a little. Not for the first time she was glad she'd asked Em to join her on the stakeout that night. With a nervous smile, she nodded slowly.

"That's just fine," she assured Em. Em gave a slightly smug smile and turned back to Becky to keep a careful watch over her on the way to the car. She just about missed Kim's silent nod of pride. Perhaps things weren't going quite as badly with her first 'floater' as she'd thought.

~xXx~

"I can't believe you made her do that!"

Gene rolled his eyes and turned up the macho stance. Usually that scared Robin away for long enough to cool him down but this time he'd overstepped the mark and nothing was going to stop the onslaught.

"I didn't _make_ Stringer do _anything_ ," he insisted, "I just told her we were knee deep in shit and let her do the maths."

"That's no better!"

"I told you _no,"_ Alex scowled at Gene and marched haughtily back to the car to wait for him.

Gene gave a growl of pure Gene Hunt testosterone-fuelled frustration. He knew he'd put Kim in a horrible position but everything had turned out alright. Better than alright, if Kim's radioed report was to be believed.

" _We've got two of the famous five in the fiat right now,"_ she'd stated, _"and you're going to have to get yourself a new photofit artist because Em's got a calling that doesn't involve sharpening pencils from nine to five."_

" _Anything_ could have happened!" Robin cried, the movement of his arms becoming more animated with every word, "if she'd have lost the baby that would have been all down to you!"

"She didn't lose a baby _and_ she gained a bastard," Gene told him.

"Yeah, well," Robin flapped the arms of his long coat crossly. He stopped, fearful that Gene would start labelling it a cape again and calling him Batman, "think yourself lucky this has a good ending. And you owe Kim for this. Big time."

"I'll let her buy me an extra latte tomorrow," Gene mumbled as Robin strode away. He shook his head, trying to cool down. Even for Gene that was a stupid move. He knew that Kim wouldn't be able to say no. Kim was nothing if not a dedicated detective. But it wasn't her call to have to make.

Robin stomped through the muddied ground and strode past a few uniformed officers who had been called to the scene to pick up the arrestees and nodded a greeting to them. Where was Alex? He wanted to speak to her about the whole thing. Before he had a chance two things happened: one was a delighted cry of " _Oh my god, there's crocodiles!"_ from Simon, knee-deep in red snapping toys in the back of the lorry; the other was a tall figure slamming into him at full speed. "What the _fuck -?!"_ he cried, half tumbling backwards. He straightened up and found himself face to face with Jake.

" _Jake?_ What's th-"

 _"She's gone!"_

Robin hesitated. He was struggling to keep up with what had turned into a nightmare of a day.

" _Who's_ gone?"

"Marci!"

Robin stared at Jake, his eyes wide and frantic. His brow was furrowed and glistening with sweat. Robin couldn't understand what away happening, nor why Jake was so insistent.

"You and Marci were supposed to be -"

"I know what we were supposed to be doing, I was _there_ ," Jake cried, "after your dog mauled her she kept freaking out until she ran off!"

 _"Woah, woah, hold on one moment,"_ Robin put his hand on Jake's shoulder. It was supposed to be a soothing gesture but succeeded only in agitating him further, "first of all, it was _Shaz's_ dog and she certainly didn't _maul_ her..."

"As good as," cried Jake. Robin shook his head.

"Secondly, what do you _mean_ she's gone?"

"She lost it, she ran away!"

"She was on the _job_ , she wouldn't just leg it, she was probably on the trail of someone." Robin's logical mind tried to solve the puzzle, "maybe she saw someone running from the car or heading to the truck."

"She freaked out, Rob, you didn't see her." Robin was disturbed by Jake's panicked expression. In all the time he'd known Jake he had never seen him in such a state with his hands grasping handfuls of his hair as he frantically pushed it away from his face, "there was the dog, then we were in the car a-and I don't know what happened... The suspect turned round, I had to make an emergency stop... headlights startled her and she started screaming and covering her face... the scream, Rob, oh _god_ , the _scream_ -"

"You're not making any sense, Jake!'

"What else do you want me to say?!" Jake cried, "she freaked _out!_ Her behaviour doesn't make sense!"

Robin stepped back and looked properly at Jake. His hair was wet from the steady drizzle while smears of mud were present all the way up to his knees. Where had he been _looking_ for her? In the _undergrowth?_

"Don't you think you might be overreacting just a _little?"_ He asked. Jake's expression changed and Robin saw anger creeping into his eyes. Nevertheless Robin needed to continue pressing him about his behaviour, "not just with this but earlier on, with the dog? Is there something going on that I don't know about?"

Jake swallowed and clenched his fists together. Robin might have been cutting a little close to the bone with that last remark, for more reasons than one.

"Like what?" he blurted, even though he didn't want to hear the answer.

"Like, I don't know!" Robin cried, his arms flailing as he struggled to understand what Jake was talking about, "is she sick or something? Is she pregnant?"

"No!" Jake cried, somewhat indignant at the suggestion.

"Or has something happened?" Robin asked, "are you trying to protect her from something? Has she had a bereavement or some sort of trauma?"

Jake swallowed, trying to block out the memory of the stars they'd both so clearly been seeing. _Some kind of trauma, alright,_ he thought but shook his head vehemently.

"No."

"Well if nothing's happened and nothing's wrong then, _please_ , try to calm the fuck down," Robin urged, knowing that his tone probably wasn't helping, "Marci's a tough person, she can look after herself."

Jake took a deep breath, recalling her trembling hands.

"I'm not so sure," he murmured.

"She doesn't need you as her bodyguard," Robin continued. He put his hands on his hips. "Just because you've got the hots for her doesn't mean you need to raise the alarm every time she leaves the room without excusing herself!"

Jake froze very firmly to the spot. His heart was thumping at such a rate that he could hear it like a drum beat in his head. His mouth grew as dry as sand and he could barely swallow.

"I don't have -" he began to protest.

"Oh come on, stop pretending, it's bloody obvious," Robin concluded, his arms flailing around him again as he tried to calm his frustration. He took a deep breath and looked at Jake more seriously. "It's been obvious for weeks, you can't stop talking about her, you fuss around her..."

"She's my best _friend!"_ Jake cried.

"Yeah, and Kim's _mine_. Doesn't mean I'm not in love with her too."

Jake's tongue ran around his lips slowly, like he was stalling for time. His brain worked hard at blocking off Robin's allegation. He wasn't ready to process it yet, despite the little voice in the back of his head screaming; h _e's right, oh God, he's right!_ He knew every word from Robin's mouth was true but he wasn't ready to think about that. First and foremost he had a missing Marci to find and stars to avoid. He swallowed and took a deep breath then opened his mouth, not even sure what would come out when he spoke.

"What, are you jealous or something?"

 _Oh._ He had, however, been fairly sure those were not the words that he was going to say

" _What?!"_ Robin's mouth dropped open. He stared at Jake; the allegation stinging his nerves. He started to shake his head and a thin smile spread across his lips born of anger. "How could you _ever_ accuse me of that, Jake? You know that's not true."

Jake swallowed. He _did_ know that was true but his mouth couldn't stop running like an out of control tap .

"I don't know _anything_ for certain!" he cried, "you've never had a problem with me and Marci being friends before!"

"I don't have a problem with you and Marci being friends, full stop!"

"Then why are you trying to shit all over my worries about her?"

"I'm not shitting over _anything!"_ Robin cried, suddenly aware of how many people had turned to watch them argue. He bit his lip and swallowed, trying to block out the giggles from some of the more juvenile people around them. "Jake, I couldn't care less who else you have feelings for, as long as they don't hurt you and you don't hurt me. I wish you and Marci would just get a fucking room. In fact, I'd _buy_ you the room!"

"Erm, renting a room is usually the cheaper option, Batman," Gene's voice interjected from somewhere in the darkness and Robin turned around crossly.

" _You_ stay out of this," he growled, "you're already treading thin ground with me."

"Try saying that again in my office with the blinds down," Gene responded, followed by the sound of some knuckles cracking. Robin rolled his eyes and turned back to Jake, only to find that he was halfway back to his car.

"Hey! _Jake!"_ he cried crossly, "I've not finished!"

"Well I _have!"_ Jake yelled back, "I'm done with this conversation and I'm done with _you."_

Robin froze. He could literally feel his heart sink down into his stomach. Suddenly his insides were filled with turbulence and he could hardly stop himself from imploding.

"What?" he barely breathed.

"If you won't help me that's fine. I'm better off on my own. Me and Marci, the way it's always been."

"Jake -" Robin cried but Jake climbed into his car and slammed the door with a vengeance. Robin swallowed hard and opened his mouth to call again but there seemed little point. Between the revving of his engine and the cracking of his voice as Jake's behaviour almost struck him dumb there was no way he could make himself heard.

Slowly he lowered his head and found himself staring at the ground. His shoes were muddy. His emotions felt the way his footwear looked. _Shit._

" _Jake,"_ he whispered.

He hadn't meant to lose his temper with Jake. He wasn't even sure how things had escalated the way they had done. The night had been dark and strange, full of disasters and disappointments. Nothing had gone the way they'd planned and now he'd found himself at war with half of Fenchurch East and minus a boyfriend. Tears threatened to well up in his eyes which he fought back by swallowing as hard as he could, over and over, doing his best not to replay the conversation in his mind.

Maybe when Jake returned with Marci, safe and sound, they could talk things through. Until then, Robin was left with a dark heart on a very cold night.

~xXx~

Jake shook his head and wiped his eyes roughly with the back of his sleeve. He glanced at the map laid out on the seat beside him. How many more roads could he cover? How many _should_ he cover? How far could she have gone? Where _was_ she?

He could still see Robin's stricken expression when he closed his eyes. _Shit_. He hadn't meant it. The last thing he wanted was to break up with Robin. Their relationship was the thing that had opened Jake up to facing his feelings for Marci. Relationships had been off-limits to him for the longest time. He didn't think he was capable of them. He'd never really wanted to be that close to another person. And even when those feelings _did_ occur he'd been too scared to confront them. Robin had taught him that, just maybe, he could 'do' relationships after all. And maybe, every now and then, a friendship could grow into something more.

No. He _still_ wasn't ready to think about that. He needed to find Marci first. And even then they had a lot to talk about. Things that didn't involve romance or friendship in the slightest.

The starlight overhead lit up the way as though illustrating his thoughts. _Another conversation I could wait forever and never be ready for._

 _ **~xXx~**_

 ** _A/N: Hi everyone! I wanted to apologise for the length of this chapter. I had no idea it was going to turn out this long but it felt like it needed to be posted as one scene rather than breaking it up. I apologise too for any mistakes I've overlooked (or that I've unintentionally added while editing!) I'm still getting used to this new laptop! Finally I wanted to drop a happy birthday mention to Robin Thomas, whose birthday is tomorrow (2_ _nd_ _July). Lucky him, he gets a break-up for his birthday! It's also my birthday, so I'm hoping upon hope that I won't get the same 'present' when Lucy reads what I've done to Robin and Jake... I'm sorry, they did it to themselves! Things ran away with me! Which, incidentally, is a feeling I am very glad indeed to welcome back. Thank you for reading, everyone, it means the world to me that you are still following this saga after so many years._**


	12. Chapter 11: I'm Going Away

**Chapter 11**

The Fiat pulled slowly to a halt and Kim let out her breath. Ahead of them were blue lights, uniformed officers, cuffed criminals and crocodiles, or ' _anarchy_ ' as Kim considered a more appropriate title.

She turned to Em beside her who sat with a slightly dazed look upon her face. The promise of a free Burger King in exchange for some company on the stake out had brought a whole series of unexpected developments.

"Ready for the onslaught?" she asked and Em flashed her a slightly awkward smile.

"More or less," she said hesitantly, then began to look a little more anxious. "Are there going to be repercussions?" she asked, "from the... _you know,"_ she glanced at a scowling Becky in the rear-view mirror, a slight lump rising through her scraped-back hair. "...The concussion?"

Kim felt the corners of her mouth rise into a smile.

"You twatted a violent suspect around the head," she began, watching Em look slightly abashed. She gave a slight pause before putting her out of her misery. "I think it'll be a miracle if Gene doesn't give you a promotion over this."

Kim could almost feel Em's sigh of relief from where she was sitting and couldn't stop herself from smiling again.

"Can't say that's not a relief," Em smiled, "although I don't think I'd be accepting that promotion." A moment of silence descended and Kim gave Em a proper look over. Her bleached hair had been flattened by the drizzle and there was mud up the side of her jeans but there was colour in her cheeks. Kim wasn't sure she'd seen that before.

" _Thank you,"_ she said quietly, which made Em turn around to face her.

"For what?" she asked and followed Kim's gaze as she gave an involuntary glance toward the wheel lock under the dashboard. " _Ohh_ ," Em shuffled awkwardly. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say in response to that. "I couldn't stay sitting in here while you were..." She flinched visibly as her mind replayed the image of Becky pointing her gun at Kim. In all the time she'd been stuck in this strange land, desperate to find her way home, Kim was the only person who'd given her the time of day. More than that, she seemed to want to help. There was something in Kim that Em found herself able to relate to and knowing that Kim had made it home once before gave her more than a little hope. More than that, Kim felt like a friend. Her one friend in a strange place "It's not..." she hesitated and flinched just a little. "I wouldn't be able to sit back and ignore what was happening to you if this was the _real_ world. How could I do anything differently here?" She shook her head slowly, "Wasn't going to let you die and I don't want to lose who I am either."

Kim smiled. She seemed to be doing that more and more these days. Not that she would ever admit to it.

"Good," she said quietly, "because that's the first rule of surviving this place." She took in a long, slow breath. _Best not to talk about the world in those terms, especially not with bastards in the back._ "Anyway, I'm sorry that was a choice you had to make. I shouldn't have dragged you into this in the first place."

Em's eyes seemed to light up like a pinball machine.

"Are you kidding?" she gave a small giggle, "this was the best night I've had since I arrived here, hands down."

Kim gave a proud nod and smiled. _Yes, Em was definitely in the right department._ Perhaps she wasn't as out of her depth as she'd thought. _I'll have Gene's job yet,_ she joked to herself and turned to stare out at the chaos unfurling before them which involved someone being chased with a crocodile. She had a strange sense of foreboding but she couldn't work out why. It felt like static in the air. She knew she couldn't keep stalling for time, especially not when four uniformed officers were heading their way to take the suspects from their possession and into custody.

"Right," she said with a slight groan, "let's get this over with."

Both Kim and Em sighed simultaneously, opened their doors at the same moment and stepped out of the car, involuntarily starting some sort of synchronised policing routine in an inappropriate setting. They stood by and waited while Becky and Freddy were removed from the Fiat and led with some protestation towards a couple of marked police vehicles, then they turned to one another.

"What now?" Em asked.

Before Kim could reply she heard someone calling her name, and quite frantically too. She hesitated then turned around to see Robin heading in her direction at some speed. Her heart lifted at the sight. There had been a horrible moment in which she doubted she'd make it back to him that night.

"Kim!" he cried again as he neared her.

"I'm alright," Kim said quickly, "I'm alright, Rob..." But her words didn't seem to soothe him nor slow his pace, _"Oof..."_

" _Kim,"_ his arms reached around her quickly and drew her close. She found herself pulled slightly up onto tiptoes and unsure how to respond to the frantic arms around her, squeezing her as tightly as he dared without squishing the baby. Kim had never been much of a huggy person. She would rather wash her hair in boiling lava than have to suffer the indignity. But if anyone was the exception to that rule, it was Robin.

" _Hey,"_ she said in a softer tone. She slowly reached around him and squeezed him back, _"I'm alright."_

"I could kill that Gene," Robin told her furiously.

"I'm fine," Kim reiterated, "I'm safe."

"Anything could have happened," Robin breathed, pulling away slightly to look at her, "He should have never, _ever_ put you in that position." he looked her in the eye. "And you didn't have to do it." Kim's teeth clamped over her lip as she felt a pang of guilt travel through her bones. "Why did you go?" Robin asked.

Kim stayed silent for a moment, trying to find a way to explain. Eventually she only needed to say two words.

"How's Shaz?"

Robin's heart dropped. His eyes turned involuntarily to an ambulance behind him.

"She's in good hands," he said quietly.

"But how _is_ she?"

"She'll be OK," Robin nodded, trying to reassure Kim, "I stayed with her until the ambulance arrived. Kept her conscious and talking. She's lost a lot of blood and she'll need surgery but she's going to be fine."

"Who's going to take her?" Kim asked, "she can't go alone."

"No, she won't, she won't," Robin assured her, "I'm going with her. I just need someone to take her dog back to the station for me."

He glanced around to see _Kim the Second_ growling at Simon and cocking a leg over his shoe.

"I think _you_ need to do that," Kim interjected, "otherwise there's going to be a bloodbath. I'll go with Shaz."

"Are you sure?" Robin wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. The thought of spending potentially hours in an ambulance and hospital waiting room filled him with dread, but not as much as the thought of someone else handling the dog. They couldn't afford another leg-eating incident. Not after the last three times.

"I'm sure," Kim said, taking one jogging step toward the ambulance before she froze and turned around guiltily. Em was still standing awkwardly beside the car, looking a little lost amongst the chaos. It wasn't the chaos itself that had left her feeling adrift, it was going back to being the outsider once again. "Em..." Kim began.

Em gave a slightly anxious smile.

"It's fine, Guv," she said, "I can get a taxi home."

Kim bit her lip, feeling a little torn between obligations. Em wasn't even supposed to _be_ there, let alone dragged into the action, and now her lift home had bailed out. But at the same time Shaz needed someone to stay with her.

"Are you _absolutely_ sure?" She asked.

"I'm sure," Em nodded, even though the idea of trying to find a taxi late at night in a strange place filled her with a sense of dread, "you go with her."

"Thank you, thank you _so_ much," Kim gave a rare, broad smile of gratitude and turned back toward the direction of the ambulance. "I'll repay you for this," she called back, "chocolate muffins from Latte Land, on your desk, tomorrow morning. That's a promise."

Em gave a nervous wave and a call of thanks before her smile faded and she stared at the scene around her. She felt like more than just an outsider as the figures that surrounded her went about their daily business. She felt almost invisible to them. They milled around, taking statements, comparing notes, giving or taking orders, but not one of them looked in her direction. She might as well not have been there.

" _Why am I here?"_ she whispered to herself. One minute she'd started to feel like she was a part of something, the next she was as out of place as Gene in a health spa. She'd started to feel there had to be a reason, but she was no closer to finding out what it was.

Until that day she would just have to keep looking in from the outside, hoping that maybe one day another crack would open up. As much as she hated to admit it, she'd absolutely loved her five minutes on the inside.

~x~

"I'll come over as soon as I can," Robin told Kim as they moved swiftly toward the ambulance, "I need to take her dog back to the unit and sit in on one of the interviews but that shouldn't take too long." He gave a short growl and made a knuckle-cracking motion without any actual cracking of his knuckles which made it a lot less threatening than it was supposed to be; "and I have a bone to pick with Lord Almighty Hunt, too."

"It wasn't _all_ his fault," Kim told him honestly, "I could have said no. Maybe I _should_ have, but..." she still felt torn on that point. Luckily everything had turned out for the best but she knew there would always be a _'what if?'_ in the back of her mind.

"I still need to pick a fight with _someone_ ," Robin commented which sounded extremely out of character, enough so for Kim to stop dead in her tracks and grasp his sleeve. She pulled him around and looked him in the eye.

"What?"

Robin closed his eyes and let his arms flail in the air momentarily.

"Ugh, I sound like such an idiot," he sighed. His hands covered his eyes and he gave an ironic laugh. "I can't get away with saying stuff like that. I'm not you."

"Oi! What are you saying?!" Kim demanded but her tone was playful. She moved closer and looked Robin in the eye. "Are you OK, Rob?" When he didn't answer and his eyes moved downward she had her answer. "What's happened?"

Robin gave a deep sigh.

"Nothing," he said quietly, "just been dumped by Jake, that's all."

" _What?!"_

Robin bit his lip, feeling awkward and sad. He'd never been dumped before. He wasn't sure if that was even the right term for it.

"I don't know what's going on here any more Kim, it's crazy," Robin sighed, "Both Jake and Marci have been going off the deep end at every little thing. Marci's been acting like a paranoid idiot and Jake's given himself the role of bodyguard..." he tried to catch his breath and slow down. He just needed to stick to the bare facts. Kim didn't need a full biography. "I don't know what happened, Kim. The operation started to go wrong, Marci apparently ran off somewhere -"

"She did _what?"_

Robin just gave a nod as though to reassure Kim that she hadn't been hearing things.

"Then Jake went off looking for her and couldn't find her, eventually turned up back here in an awful state. When I told him to stop panicking and tried to make him see he was overreacting we got into a huge fight. It was over as quick as it started though, and he got back in his car, one boyfriend lighter."

" _Oh Rob,"_ Kim's heart sank for Robin. She'd seen their _friendship-come-relationship_ blossom from a slow-burning union between two highly nervous individuals who needed a lot of encouragement into something special that gave both of them fun, fondness and intimacy. _"Come here."_ It might not have been the place for it, and hugs might not have been Kim's forte, but she knew what Robin needed right then was a warm pair of arms to hold him tightly. He felt himself calm right down at her touch, closed his eyes and relished the moment – as short as it was. They both knew they had to get back to work. But there would be time later for them to talk, Kim would make sure of it.

She drew back and squeezed his arm in her grasp.

"Come over as soon as you can," she said, "we'll talk about whatever you need to talk about, alright?"

Robin nodded. He still could feel raw pain attached to his heart but Kim's warmth has dulled it just a little. Her words were always the perfect anaesthetic for him.

" _Thank you,"_ he breathed. He squeezed her arm in return and they departed in separate directions. When he and Kim were close together, Robin considered to himself, the world felt a little more grounded.

~xXx~

"Marci?" Jake swore and shook his torch. Stupid piddly little thing it was. _Rubbish_. He should have bought a better one _ages_ ago. Usually it did the job, no problem. But on a night full of fog and drizzle it did little to help him see his way through the increasingly dense atmosphere. _"Marci!"_

He'd started to feel like he was calling a lost puppy. The way people stared at him as he yelled Marci's name over and over again, he was starting to feel quite self conscious. Nonetheless, nothing was going to put him off his search. He'd tried everywhere he could think of – the station, her house, the club, even the pub they'd occasionally go to for a CID night out. He'd combed the area around the stake-out, he'd tried the local hospitals, he'd walked and driven along half the paths and roads between them but there was no sign of Marci.

"Why does London have to be such a fucking big _place?"_ Jake muttered through raindrops as he opened his car door and plonked his backside heavily into the seat. He lifted his legs inside the car and slammed the door. Very slowly he blew out his breath and stared at the road ahead. He'd really thought it was her this time but it was just a cleverly disguised tree. It really looked like it had a coat, platforms and an afro, just for a moment. Now he felt like the world's biggest idiot.

He turned the key in the ignition and waited for his engine to burst into action. The puny splutter it gave instead alarmed him and he turned the key a little more forcefully this time. It made a similar noise, except a little angrier. Jake gave a furious growl and turned the key again to no avail.

" _Damnit!"_ he slammed his hands against the wheel in anger and felt a sharp tingling spread through his fingers from the impact. He tried to start the car again, and again. For five whole minutes he made attempt after attempt to get it working but something had given up the ghost.

"Damnit, damn _everything,"_ he cried and opened the door. Stomping his way out, he turned around and slammed the door closed behind him before slapping the roof and making a valiant attempt at kicking the wheel. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the car, thoroughly defeated. He could feel the raindrops hitting his face and dripping from his hair but they just barely registered. He didn't care how cold or wet he got. Until he found Marci his hope would remain cold and lifeless anyway.

Even with his eyes closed he could just about see something bursting through the thin shield of his eyelids. Something bright.

 _It's a headlight, just a headlight. Someone must be driving in my direction._

Yes, that's what it was. Had to be. He knew that was the logical explanation for the brightness that filtered through and yet he also couldn't bring himself to open his eyes and see. The brightness passed without a singe hint of a car engine and a shudder passed through him. Keeping his eyes closed had been the right decision.

Eventually it felt safe to open up his eyes. Some of the rain managed to sneak past his eyelashes and into his eyes as they opened, blurring his line of sight for a little while but he managed to clear it with a few blinks.

 _If only everything were as easy to solve._

Laying one last kick against the paintwork he turned around, folded his arms, abandoned his car and marched back toward the main road. He wasn't sure where to go from here; maybe hitch a lift, or perhaps find a payphone to ring a pick up service. But the next step after that was to enlist some help. He knew the rest of his friends would probably react the same way as Robin had if he confronted them in his present state so he'd have to calm down and sort himself out first but this time he would get his message across. Somehow he'd make them see that something strange was going on, and then...?

Then they'd get his best friend back. There was no other option.

 _I'm coming for you, Marci. Wherever you might be._

~xXx~

Marci's whole world cracked right down the middle.

Her head pounded as hard as her feet did against the ground. There was little that made sense to her and even less that she could cope with thinking about. She knew that she was in a mess, both physically and mentally. She _had_ been from way before she'd even stepped into Jake's car to begin the evening's operation. The withdrawal symptoms from the lack of opiates had left her feeling ill and vulnerable but the strange stars that had been plaguing her for days... maybe even _weeks_... had found every chip in her armour, then worked away until they split her defences wide open and she finally imploded from the strain.

A gasp of horror emerged from between her lips and her hand rose to her mouth as though she was trying to force it back inside. She spun around, staring at the cars streaming past on the busy road beside her. The headlights felt like torture. What _was_ this, her own personal _hell?_ She spun back and started to run again. She didn't know where she was running, just as far away from Jake as possible. _Far away from the guilt._

 _Oh god, oh god no..._ the flashback played through her mind again. It had been brought on by the mix of starlight and headlights and made very little sense.

She could feel a steering wheel in her hand, she could hear yelling, there was rain and a terrible feeling of anger and dread running through her veins. And then, _nothing._ Nothing, nothing, nothing, stretching out as far as she could see. But before the nothing came the guilt. It lasted only seconds before the nothingness took over but it was there none the less. There were screams trapped within that moment. Screaming, pain and the deepest sensation of regret that she had ever felt.

Her pace slowed to a fast trot from an all-out sprint as her cold hands, upon slipping inside her pockets for warmth, rediscovered something oh so tempting . She licked her dry lips slowly and found her eyes flicking from side to side. Did anyone know? Could anyone tell just from looking at her? Did they know what she had about her person, or what she felt so damn tempted to do?

And it wouldn't be the first time, either. She hung her head involuntarily as she recalled _that night;_ the one on which she'd hit her lowest point. Helping herself to a sample from evidence was the biggest regret she'd ever had.

At least, it had been until that damn flashback as she found herself caught in the light.

"That doesn't even make _sense!"_ She blurted, unaware for a moment that she'd even spoken out loud. Two young women, all dressed up for a night out, turned around and have her a funny look, not quite sure whether to be amused or concerned. Marci swallowed and pulled her lips into a neutral pout to push past them and evade their stares. She closed her eyes for a moment and muttered, "Excuse me," as she marched past then waited until she was a fair distance away before she let her pace slow down again. Her head dipped slightly from her tense shoulders and she stared at the soggy ground ahead as she walked.

Nothing made sense to Marci any more. How could she see stars in the daytime? How could she see them on the _ceiling?_ She's managed to convince herself they were an effect of the pills, even though it had never happened before, but she couldn't fall back on that excuse any more because she was not alone.

 _Jake saw them too._

 _"Jake,"_ her guilt rose and her spirit fell harder. That name brought back the guilt. Her heart felt strangled; her emotions wrung out by a memory that couldn't even exist and the emotions that came along with it. She knew it was wrong, she knew it made no sense. How _could_ it? Jake was alive and well and probably still calling out her name. She closed her eyes and gulped hard, feeling like she could throw up at any moment if she lost concentration. He'd taken so much shit from her recently and yet he was still there for her. Same old Jake; the same special friend he'd always been.

Except that, buried behind the guilt, there was a little pang of something reminding her that her feelings hadn't all been so pure recently.

A car horn beeped and she jumped a good few inches in the air, or so it felt. She'd somehow managed to block out the traffic beside her. Cars weren't exactly in her favour right then. They brought back those dark feelings and the flashback that brought them. She started to speed up but stumbled over her own shoe, her reflexes a little out of kilter.

 _"Oi!"_ An angry driver shook his fist out of the window, beeping crossly at Marci to get out of the way. In truth she'd barely dipped a toe into the road but his anger, teamed up with her paranoia, sent her scrambling backward in fear and distress. Her fingers closed again round the foil package. It was so tempting, so fucking tempting. She knew how easy it would be. She'd done it before. It would stop all the shakes and block out the stars. _Maybe_ , she hoped, _it will even block out the guilt._ But as she started to pull it from her pocket the guilt increased and she knew she couldn't do it. She could fight the temptation... she _would_ fight the temptation... but the anger she felt toward herself was still alive and well. She'd still kept hold of that little foil bastard. She'd 'forgotten' on purpose. She couldn't guarantee that, some other time, she wouldn't have given in.

"Oh _god,"_ she whispered to herself as she caught sight of her reflection in a car door, _"what have I become?"_

She felt her anger rising, desperate to escape everything. The stars, the drugs, the guilt, _everything._ She felt herself stumbling into the undergrowth alongside the pavement and pushed through a few bushes. Where was she _now?_ Some collective of trees. Why were those a thing? Mysterious little groups of foliage between bits of road and rail. Did anyone tend to them? How long had they been there? She fought her way through a number of thin, wiry trees and stumbled into a group of thicker trunks. She could see another road beyond them and changed direction to stomp through the thickest part of the foliage instead. The foil in her pocket felt like it was on fire, burning her fingers. She clasped it tightly and gave a furious cry. Why had she kept it? Why was she so damn tempted? That wasn't her. It wasn't _her!_

" _Gaaaaahh!"_ she screamed as she pulled it from her pocket and launched it as far as she could throw. It vanished into the darkness within a second and she felt both relief and regret surging through her veins. How could something so small cause so much pain? She closed her eyes and focused on feeling a breeze blow around her face. The drizzle was slowing and a cold, freezing mist was starting to settle in its place. It stung her eyes and her skin, biting away at her from the outside while her emotions did he same from within.

She stumbled sideways, fighting through another small collection of trees, when something scratched its way through her clothes and she stumbled sideways from the shock of the pain. Thorns from a bramble bush gripped hold of her tights and scratched her skin. She let out a pained howl and tried to pull her legs free but the harder she pulled the more she lost control of her coordination and as she finally freed herself a car horn beeped loudly and bright lights blinded her momentarily. She had no idea she'd wandered so close to another road. Her heart jarred inside her chest and she let out a long, cleansing scream. The fear that travelled through her in that moment was like nothing she had felt before. It was too much, it was _all too much_.

She ran; ran back into the trees, faster, as fast as she could but her body felt weak and shaky and the undergrowth grew thicker until she misfooted completely and stumbled to one side. At the last moment, she saw it; a steep, two metre drop down. She gave a desperate gasp and grabbed for a wiry tree that had grown out from the ground and sideways in an unruly fashion but it snapped easily in her grasp and her body tumbled downward.

She closed her eyes en route and for a split second she relished the promise of darkness at the end of the drop. It would be a welcome release from the torment inside her mind. She heard the crash of her body against the bushes before she felt it. Pain jarred through her body, one inch at a time, as though she couldn't quite bear to allow herself to feel the full effect of the impact. It settled around her ankle and a wrist along with increasing waves of pain that rippled through her back. She managed one cry of help and had a passing thought about pulling herself up on a nearby branch but she could tell that wasn't going to happen. Her head felt sore and it hurt far too much to try keeping it upright. The bed of damp leaves below invited her to lie herself upon them and let the darkness take away the pain, just for a while. It transpired to be an offer she couldn't refuse.

Her eyes softly closed as her mind shut down, like an overloaded system trying to protect itself from blowing. As a cold mist started to settle around her shoulders, numbness brought her a sense of peace. For the first time in weeks, Marci's troubles were on ice.

 _ **~xXx~**_

 _ **A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you're still enjoying this long-running saga as much as I'm enjoying writing it. It means so much to me that there are still people who follow Simon, Robin and Kim through the trials and tribulations of Gene's world. It's been a long time since I've felt this inspired and absorbed by my world and it's also been years since I was in a position to write regularly but I think I'm finally there. I hope the pace of adding new chapters will increase and I hope you'll continue to follow. Thank you for staying with me through the gaps in updates – those will be far shorter from now on! And just in time too. Things are about to get very serious indeed...**_

 _ **I also want to wish a slightly belated happy birthday to one of the longest followers of this crazy series – Charlotte, I hope you had an amazing 21st birthday and have an awesome year ahead of you! You've been here almost from the start and I have absolutely no doubt that there are a bunch of fictional characters who would love to send you a birthday latte and a complimentary crocodile to celebrate your big day!**_


	13. Chapter 12: And Drink With Me

**Chapter 12**

The sound of scotch hitting the bottom of the glass grounded Gene on a night where everything seemed to be flying out of his grasp. His eyes focussed on the liquid as it poured from the half-empty bottle, then stopped a little higher than his usual measure. He filled a second glass without even asking if it was wanted. This was a familiar scene; one which had repeated on and off for almost two decades now. Alex's slender fingers slipped around a glass and she lifted up her measure as Gene merely stared into his. There were so many thoughts and worries bouncing around inside his head, all shouting over one another, each one dragging him closer to a headache of epic proportions. He rubbed his temples and closed one eye.

"What kind of BBC One afternoon drama did tonight's operation turn into, Bols? Eh?" he could feel her eyes upon him and even managed to make out the motion of her raising the glass to her lips within the reflection of his own but he couldn't bring himself to look directly at her. "What bundle of tripe was that tonight? Biggest op of the year, higher stakes than the Christmas number one, yet we managed to bollock things up worse than Noel Edmonds and the Mister Blobby franchise."

Alex stepped a little closer with concern. For Gene those were some pretty weak analogies, considering the state of the night. He looked tired. His words were born of exhaustion.

"Gene," she pulled up a chair and sat in front of his desk so that she could rest her elbows against it and lean towards him, "you can't blame yourself for what happened tonight."

"Can, have, will do 'til the day I die," Gene mumbled, finally reaching for his drink.

"There was nothing you could have done differently. None of the intelligence we had pinned Freddy and Becky to tonight's deal. We had no way of knowing there would be unexpected visitors, and even so we should have been capable of dealing with their arrival."

"Then why weren't we, Bolly?" Gene mumbled gruffly.

"Freddy was as high as Canary Wharf tower, he opened fire under the influence. His behaviour couldn't have been anticipated."

"We still should have been prepared," Gene shook his head, "This was Dawson's operation. They were his calls."

"And he planned well," Alex said pointedly, "Don't try to lay blame in Jake's lap any more than in your own."

This time Gene looked up and finally met Alex's gaze.

"Jake has plenty to answer for!" he cried, "that's what I can't wrap me head around! Our resident jobs-worth legged it on a wild goose chase for a missing Spice Girl at the critical _moment!"_

Alex straightened up and leaned back in her chair. She still felt a little cloudy on what exactly happened and since neither Jake nor Marci had shown up since, the prime suspects of the moment weren't available for questioning.

"You still made a wrong call sending Kim in," she told Gene, her blood prickling a little with anger that she hadn't quite managed to shake. They'd fought about it all the way back to the station. If he was honest, Gene felt a little guilty about his call on that one, not that he was going to tell Alex. It had been Kim's decision too, but he knew Kim well enough to accept that she'd had no real choice in the matter.

"I'm the least of yer problems, Bolly," he tried to shake that subject away, "the station's PR officer and detective sergeant has developed a phobia of headlights; our newly promoted DI abandoned us to chase a paranoid Spice Girl, the ex-devil in brogues is weeping about how to get blood out of his best jacket and me son and heir is running around the station with a _crocodile_ under each arm as a new bloody _interrogation_ technique!" He ran out of breath quite suddenly and had to pant for a few moments to get back on track, then he looked Alex in the eye and shook his head. "The best bloody officer we had out there tonight was our resident Damien Hurst and she's not even a bloody _detective._ She's already been admitted into the Fenchurch East Hall of Fame." He paused, waiting for Alex's expression to change into one of confusion. "Grafitti in the gents'," he explained, "a three-point diagram depicting the best way to clobber a bastard with random objects you can find about yer person."

A slight smile that was tinged with sadness rippled across Alex's lips and she leaned forward again, trying to create a more intimate atmosphere. She knew that look on Gene's face. She'd seen it before.

"Things didn't go one hundred percent to plan, Gene. Everybody knows that. Yes, tomorrow Fletcher's probably going to be roasting us for dinner but don't lose sight of what we've achieved. Four of our five suspects are in the cells, as well as the driver who, according to Simon, is singing like... like _you,_ back in Bask, after three pints of lager. We've got a big truck full of crocodiles who arrived complete with enough fake passports to ship the entire population of HMP Fenchurch to the other side of the world." She watched Gene gulp back another mouthful of scotch and gave a short sigh, "Shaz is in good hands, James's nose wasn't _actually_ broken -"

"More's the pity," Gene mumbled into something alcoholic.

"- And your living pencil sharpener thought fast enough on her feet to stop us having _two_ gunshot wounds on the night's tally," Alex continued, "we're lucky to have some solid members on our side, Guv."

"To make up for DI Dawson's disappearing act?" Gene set the glass back on his desk. Alex couldn't help but notice that the amount of liquid within it had reduced significantly. She knew Gene was in full-blown wallow mode and was running out of energy to try dragging him out.

"What about Marci?" she goaded instead.

Gene polished off the last of his drink.

"Must be his glamorous assistant," he mumbled. He looked at Alex seriously, folding his arms over his chest. "what did I say to you tonight?"

Alex chewed softly on her lip. She looked down at her glass, then back at Gene. Her mind ran over their previous conversation; _the stars, the strangeness, a weirdening of their world._

"Gene," she began seriously, _"I know._ I know you're thinking about stars and all the things that are worrying you but are you _really_ telling me you think this is related?"

"I've got two detectives AWOL," Gene told her, opening his drawer, "and they happen to be our local clones from _Top of the Pops._ " He reached down and grasped a couple of files. "what did you say to me yesterday? About Nicey?"

Alex frowned and tried to wrack her brain for the answer but she felt so exhausted from the evening's operation and the cold that had blocked her nose and padded out her brain with cotton wool that she couldn't understand what Gene was talking about. It was only when Gene pulled up the files and jiggled them pointedly that she remembered.

" _Marci's rank,"_ she gasped. Her fingers rose to her mouth and she looked back at Gene. "I can't believe I forgot to bring it up again..." She shook her head. Their conversation had been interrupted by Jake but she'd fully intended to talk about it with Gene as soon as possible. Her memory had been getting worse for quite some time but this was something new. It was almost as though it had been taken from her, like forbidden information. She bit her lip. "I checked Marci's record. She might have arrived here as a detective constable but she certainly wasn't a DC when she -" she stopped herself at the last moment from saying the 'D' word. " _joined us,"_ she corrected herself.

"What was she? Lord chief executioner?"

"I told you, she was a detective inspector," Alex breathed in hushed tones, "she was a DI, Gene. Why the heavy handed demotion?"

"Me world probably saw her doing a bunk in the middle of the op of the _century!"_ Gene mumbled but the sound of voices heading toward them stopped their conversation before it had really started.

"We _do_ need to talk about this later," Alex told Gene, "this time I mean it."

Gene swept the files into his drawer and started to top up his glass.

"It can wait until I've put you to bed and covered you in liniment," he told her, "I can see yer nose dripping from here."

Alex blushed and reached to her nose involuntarily even though it wasn't really dripping. Gene's rough treatment of her cold hid his deeper concern. It was true; illness wasn't much of a thing in his world. There were occasional headaches but those were usually either caused by excessive consumption of alcohol or excessive regurgitation of Red Dwarf facts by Simon. There were occasional bouts of nausea but those were usually brought on by eating in the canteen during Sprout Happy Hour. There weren't many coughs and colds to speak of. The only times he'd seen Alex unwell were usually during times when his world was feeling weak.

"Guv," Simon's voice sounded jovial and full of life. It came as a complete contrast to the conversation they'd been having. His voice was followed by a knock on the door and then, without waiting for a reply, the arrival of Simon himself. "Driver's talking. He's told us everything you'll ever need on the Kellen Boys. He only stopped short of telling us what colour underpants Freddy wears."

"Probably because underpants are a bit of a sore point with 'im now," Gene commented, slamming his drawer shut and opening the one above from which he pulled a glass. Alex couldn't help but note to herself that Gene's desk could easily double as an emergency bar, should the need for one ever arise.

"Yeah, well," Simon looked slightly abashed but not for very long, "arrest techniques aside, we got him talking and once he started he just didn't want to stop!"

"Probably worried that Freddy was going to offer him a close-up version of his firearm-juggling routine," Gene huffed. He poured a far smaller measure of scotch for Simon and pushed it toward him. "Good job tonight, son. Yer signature style of arrest might yet catch on around here."

Simon looked from the glass to a figure hovering behind him, trying to remain out of sight.

"Actually it was James who broke him in the interview," he said, moving forward very deliberately to reveal his nervous DI, "I went into the interview all wrong. You should thank him for getting the novel-and-a-half we've got from the guy."

Gene's stare moved from Simon to the reluctant man in the doorway. He both bristled at the sight of the man he couldn't quite bring himself to think of as anyone other than Keats and felt the effect of the tongue-lashing Simon had given him after his behaviour at the pub just a few nights earlier. He hadn't seen a hint of the monster Keats had grown to be since James had started working at Fenchurch East but the man still wore the same skin. It was impossible to separate them inside his mind. But he knew one thing for sure and that was having discontent inside his ranks only weakened his world, and if stars were chasing his tail then the best thing he could do was to welcome a little harmony. It made acid bubble inside his chest to even think of it but he overrode every instinct in his body to reach into his drawer for another glass.

"Is that right?" he asked flatly, narrowing his eyes. He flipped the glass up in the air and caught it, like he was carrying out some pre-programmed bar steward routine, then started to fill it with alcohol. "Then you'd better drink to it." He pushed the glass toward the edge of his desk and eyed James warily. "Good job tonight, DI Keats." He couldn't help spitting a little at the last word but he somehow refrained from adding any kind of devil-related jibe to the end of his sentence. He watched Simon nudge James carefully into the room.

"Go on then," Simon said quietly. A reluctant, anxious James moved slowly into Gene's office. He could almost feel the walls scorning him. The whole station knew what had gone before, even if he still had only scant memories. Even so, he could never have imagined Gene holding out a glass with his name upon it. He reached for it hesitantly and looked at Gene like a nervous kid in the heads teacher's office.

"Th-thanks," he said quickly, cursing himself for stammering. His fingers wrapped around the glass and he lifted it up to his lips. The smell of the scotch repelled him. Had he always hated the scent or was he a scotch drinker in a previous life? He had no way of knowing. He tried to fain a smile and took a miniscule sip from the glass. The taste made him wince and splutter a little and he quickly returned the glass to the desk. He glanced guiltily at Gene.

"Fenchurch's finest not good enough for you, Jimmy?" he asked which caught James a little off-guard. He couldn't remember anyone calling him Jimmy before. Especially not Gene who'd had a tendency to use _Jimbo_ as a way of scalding him repeatedly. That name burned him. Every time he heard it, it hurt his soul. The new nickname had come from nowhere.

"It's fine, it's good. Nice." he lied, coughing slightly from the memory of the flavour, "Thanks, guv."

Simon found himself umming and erring nervously, searching for an excuse to pardon James from the drink he disliked while appeasing Gene and thanking him for the gesture. At a loss for a magic answer he was about to tell Gene that James was the designated driver for the night even though they lived about twenty paces from the front door of the station, when Jake's arrival shattered the awkward moment into thousands of pieces.

"Guv -"

Gene shot to his feet.

" _Dawson!"_ A blast of anger shot through every vein in his body. A week into his promotion and Jake had abandoned the operation of the year for reasons widely unknown.

"Guv, have you seen her?" Jake flew to Gene's desk and crashed against it, sending James's unwanted scotch flying.

Gene, torn between dealing with Jake and mourning the loss of a good scotch, thrust his hands into his pocket and glared at the bedraggled man before him.

"Your P-forty-five?" he asked, "Yes, I've seen that. _You'll_ be seeing it too before the end of the night if you don't give me a good reason to forget about it!"

"No, _Marci_ ," Jake spluttered, ignoring Gene's attempted wit and anger. He panted heavily in a valiant attempt to catch his breath. He felt accumulated raindrops drip from his hair onto the end of his nose whilst his soaked, muddied trousers clung furiously to his calves. "Has she been back since the operation?"

"You seem to know better than we would," Alex told him. She looked at him sternly. Whilst she didn't share the anger of Gene she just couldn't believe that such a solid, reliable member of the team would abandon their post the way that Jake had that night. "I think we all deserve an explanation for your behaviour."

"What's this?" Simon asked with a frown, glancing from Alex to Gene to Jake, hoping one of them might fill him in.

"Whilst you were busy getting a boner for a box o' wooden crocodiles, dippy Dawson here abandoned the op to chase his glamorous assistant around the outskirts of London."

"Marci's missing," Jake turned to Simon and spoke over Gene, too worried about his dear friend to fear the wrath of the Guv this time. Luckily for him, his words seemed to strike the right chord with Simon.

"Marci?" he repeated, "why? What happened?"

"It's a long story, Sir," Jake finally caught his breath and focused on Simon. He needed to put his blinkers on to block out the angry glare of Gene and the stern expression that Alex still wore. He knew there would be consequences but right there and then he couldn't have cared less. "She got scared -"

"Scared?" Simon repeated, "that doesn't sound like Marci. Scared of who? The Kellen Boys?"

"It wasn't a _who_ , it's a _what,"_ Jake felt his face flush. He couldn't have felt more ridiculous if he'd sprouted wings and danced the funky chicken but if he was to find Marci then he needed to present the facts as they were. "We'd both been feeling strange," he dropped his voice a little, hoping that somehow no one else would hear him, "I don't know... the stars were really bright..."

Gene and Alex felt as though someone had poked them in the spine with a needle as they heard that word. _Stars._ Their eyes met and the world stood still for a moment. Both hearts began to beat just a little bit faster as Alex's voice barely managed to croak,

"Stars?"

Either Jake couldn't hear her or he was doing an incredible job of pretending not to. He never broke eye contact with Simon, even for a moment.

"Then a car came towards us and the headlights..." he trailed off to catch his breath and to try to work out how to explain what happened next. "There were these bright headlights, they came straight for us and kind of blinded us for a moment, and Marci..." his hand rose to his forehead, "she just _flipped out_ , sir. I think it triggered something for her. You know, a bad memory?" Simon started to nod as Jake continued, "like she had a flashback. But I don't know what _to_ and then she started apologising and just... _ran off._ I tried to chase her but I lost her, I lost her right away and I've been walking round and round, and driving everywhere I could think of -"

"OK -" Simon began but Jake was in full flow.

"- and then my car broke down and I had to walk for _miles_ ," he may have been exaggerating a little but that's how long it had seemed to him, "and I called a mechanic but it won't be fixed until the morning."

"OK, Jake, OK," Simon tried again.

"And I need someone to help me find her -"

"I'll help you, OK?" Simon laid his hands against Jake's shoulders. The gesture calmed him a little right away so that he could finally listen to what Simon was telling him, "we'll find her. Come on." he reached into his pocket for his car key and glanced at James. A pang of guilt hit him. "James..."

James held up his hand and gave a slightly anxious smile.

"It's OK," he said, "I'll finish up here and walk home."

"Are you sure?" Simon hesitated at the doorway.

"It's only two minutes away," James nodded, "You go. I'll be fine." His eyes moved back to the abandoned glass which now had fifty percent less scotch inside it and sat in the middle of a puddle. He looked up at Gene and said nervously, "Another time?"

Gene stared at James, then at the glass and finally at Simon disappearing out of the doorway. He tried to swallow but his mouth felt incredibly dry suddenly.

"Yes," he said eventually, "you can knock back me custom some other time." He gave Simon a stern glare. "Thought better of you, Shoebury. I half _expect_ the _Top of the Pops_ brigade to abandon their posts but _you_ know better than to run off on a wild goose chase."

Simon turned to frown at Gene.

"An officer is missing," he said crossly, "if that's not giving you cause for concern then you shouldn't have your name up on the door."

Gene could do little but stare with fury in his eyes, watching as Simon and James both left the room with Jake leading the way. His door closed after them as though on automatic and Gene found himself with only Alex and his scotch for company and comfort. He reached slowly for his glass, only too well aware that his hand shook as he drew it to his lips.

"Gene," was all Alex needed to say.

"I know, Bolly, I know," Gene snapped before he managed to rein in his tone. He took a large mouthful of scotch and swilled it around, over his taste buds. He closed his eyes and his head drooped slowly. "I heard it too." His glass slammed onto the table as he spoke the word that scared them. _"Stars."_

Neither he nor Alex spoke another word for quite some time. As he glanced behind him he could see Simon and Jake through the window, heading to Simon's car, while James made the short walk home. Above them was a clear sky. The rain had departed and the stars were out in force. Both Gene and Alex knew that something was happening. Something beyond their control. What they didn't know was why, nor what would happen next.

They would have to sit back and wait for the world tor reveal its plan and cling to one another until the storm had passed.


	14. Chapter 13: I Wish It Weren't So

**Chapter 13**

Jake felt himself thawing out, little by little, as he stared out at the road ahead of them. Simon's wipers moved back and forth every so often, clearing the freezing mist before it could settle and tossing the occasional droplet of rain asunder. He moved his right hand surreptitiously towards the heater and let his fingers wriggle in front of the warm air for a few moments. He could feel some semblance of sensation returning at last. He'd spent so long roaming the roads that he'd started to panic about the possibility of frostbite, even though he knew that was unlikely. The thawing of his digits didn't stop him worrying about Marci though. She was still out there. Somewhere.

His eyes flickered toward Simon, sat beside him in the driver's seat. Simon's eyes were focused on the road ahead and his grip on the wheel was firm and steady. Jake could see him checking every mirror, not just for traffic but for any sign of their friend. He noticed Simon slowing down any time they came close to a group of people, just in case Marci was one of them. It had been a while since they had passed anyone now though and they both knew they were heading for the boundary of their logical search area. With each new segment of the city they headed for, Jake felt his hope slipping away from him, little by little.

Simon kept his eyes on the road as he drove along through areas of Fenchurch and beyond that Jake hadn't previously covered. He was aware of Jake's eyes focusing on him and it took all his will power not to turn to face him. He kept his focus on driving safely and watching for Marci.

" _Thank you."_

As Simon worked at not turning around he thought about the fact that Jake's voice sounded different to usual. Perhaps it was something to do with the confined space in the car, or maybe walking in the rain had gotten into his throat. He'd spoken softly and quietly, his words almost smothered by the sound of the heater. Simon thought about ignoring him. Looking for Marci was one thing; having a conversation with the boyband reject from hell was quite a other. But it wasn't in Simon's nature to be rude so he have a non-committal shrug.

"I think if we turn right and head to the roundabout we can check the other park and the sports field," he said loudly, "she might have managed to find her way there. Any further than that and I think it's a bit far to walk. Especially with those heels."

Jake watched Simon carefully as he drove. In all his time at Fenchurch he'd spent relatively little working with DCI Shoebury. He studied Simon's profile; his firm, almost chiselled jawline, the clear blue eyes that darted back and forth, watching for their friend, the dark blonde waves that Simon nervously pushed back with his fingers every now and then. His expression stayed as neutral as he could possibly make it.

"What made you say yes?"

Simon couldn't ignore Jake's second comment, as much as he wanted to. He glanced to his side, catching Jake's innocent eyes and curious expression.

"What do you mean?" he frowned.

"To helping me look for Marci?" Jake asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" Simon frowned, "she's a friend and a colleague and she could be in danger. No one worth their sort could refuse to help you."

Jake felt himself gulp involuntarily.

"Chief Inspector Thomas did," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Simon bit his lip as they arrived at a set of traffic lights and pulled up for a moment.

"Robin?" he asked. _What a stupid thing to say_ , he cursed himself, _of course Robin. How many other Chief Inspector Thomases are there at Fenchurch East?!_ He shook his head with a sigh. _Gloss over that comment._ "What did he say?"

"I'm not even that sure, Sir," Jake hung his head a little, "I think he thought I was hysterical. He thought I was overreacting to say the least. It wasn't pretty." He shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to get into what happened next. "And the Guv didn't seem too bothered about her, either."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the Guv," Simon shook his head and leaned forward a little to stare out of the car as the traffic started moving again. He was only too aware that he was never going to reach the heady heights of respect that Gene had amongst colleagues and criminals alike. However, if it meant ignoring the safety of Marci then he was more than happy not to be on the same page. He shook his head a second time and let out a deep sigh. "Marci's been a good friend to me," he tried to explain, "I mean, I know we're not best friends like you two are, and we don't hang around together... I don't really go clubbing much or anything like that... but she's been there for me when no one else really cared. She'd always notice. She'd always know. She'd be right there with a cup of tea and the right words."

He could see a smile flicker over Jake's lips as he talked about her.

"Yup," he nodded, "that's Marci alright."

"She told me to put my own happiness first," Simon continued, "she knew what she was talking about, too. She didn't mean that I should be selfish, just that if I wasn't happy then what chance did I have to make anyone else happy?" he shook his head as they headed around the roundabout, "I hate to think of her out there on her own, scared."

Jake ran a hand back through his hair as it dried slowly in the warm car. He bit his lip, not really wanting to know the answer to his next question.

"What happened to her, Sir?" he mumbled, "I mean, I've never _seen_ her like that."

Simon hesitated, with stars playing through his mind. He didn't want to say too much. He wasn't sure what he _could_ say or even whether the stars Jake had mentioned were the ones that he'd seen before, peppering Gene's world with change, but he had a feeling that the sands were shifting beneath their feet. Something big was happening to the world and Marci had been struck with something she was never meant to know.

"It sounds like a flashback," he choked a little, "something might have triggered it. Something in the light you saw. The headlight." he closed his eyes for a moment, recalling Robin's trigger song. It was a cruel trick of the human mind that something so innocuous could be tied irrevocably together with something so foul that it scorched the soul. He focused again on the road, "we'll find her, Jake."

"And if we don't?"

Simon licked his dry lips. The winter cold had started to get to them and little sore cracks were threatening to form.

"It's not going to come to that," he said, as confidently as he dared, "we're going to find her." Large droplets of water appeared on the windscreen before him and he gruffly mumbled an insult at the weather before turning on the wipers.

"Shitty weather," Jake commented absently. He pulled his jacket around himself. It was still damp form the soaking he'd caught as he trudged back to the station and the sound of the sudden onslaught of raindrops did little to warm him through.

"Its been wild and weird today," Simon had to agree as he strained to see the road ahead. How could the weather have turned so quickly? He hoped that Marci was out of the rain, wherever she was. It was starting to become hard to see out of the windscreen and the road ahead became a wet mystery. He mumbled a few expletives under his breath as the rain pelted the car in a head-on assault. "Do you want to try calling her again?"

Jake checked his watch and nodded. It had been an hour or so since he'd last tried her house. He noted with a shudder that they were now into the early hours of the next morning and still found no sign of her.

"Can we stop somewhere?" he asked, "find a phone box?"

"No need," Simon told him and reached into his pocket to grasp his mobile phone. He noted with some relief that mobiles were at least small enough to carry around now _Still no iPhone,_ he thought to himself. He couldn't help thinking about the giant monstrosity Malcolm had tried to bestow upon him, believing he'd found Simon's missing device. That felt like a lifetime ago yet was only maybe four years, give or take a little to account for Gene-time. He pulled the phone from his pocket. "Here."

"Thanks, Sir," Jake took it gratefully but didn't have a chance to dial. A bright light crept into his vision, into both their sights, sneaking in from the right and quickly spreading across the entirety of the windscreen until it blinded the two blue sets of eyes in its reach. Jake felt himself gasping and one arm rose involuntarily to shield himself from the glare while Simon swore a little louder and tried to keep control of the car but in the split-second distraction of handing over his phone he'd lost concentration and somehow couldn't quite get his reflexes to work in the right order.

"Shit," he cursed, grasping the wheel and taking a sharp turn whilst simultaneously thrusting his foot onto the brake, _"Shit! Fuck!"_

He could hear Jake's voice behind him; one long scream that rang out above the squealing of tyres. It was strange, Simon found himself noting, but Jake's scream seemed born of deeper fear than he'd ever heard before, as though something deep inside of him had awoken within that split second of brightness. For what it was worth, Simon realised, he was doing a fairly good job of adding his own voice to the cacophony. When had he stopped steering and started screaming? He hadn't even realised he'd been doing it, but there it was; his own voice ringing in his ears.

There was a hard _thud_ which jolted both men forward and gave them both reason to be thankful for seatbelts, then a strange pop and a hiss which was followed by smoke or steam billowing out of the engine and toward the windscreen. Several seconds passed in which the only sounds they could hear were the hissing remains of the engine and their own car alarm ringing away in the darkness. Neither knew what to say or even quite what had happened. Simon could hear Jake taking in noisy breaths and turned slowly to see his face pale and gaunt as he tried to tame a panic attack. For what it was worth, Simon's heart was thundering away and one hand rose involuntarily to his chest, as though checking that he was still alive. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, recounting the last few moments in his mind. _Shit... shit!_ What the fucking hell was he going to do now? How was he going to explain this to Gene?

He forced himself to move, to speak, to do _something_. He turned to Jake again and found him now a little calmer with his breathing normal and his eyes starting to focus again.

"Are you -" Simon gulped as his voice came out as little more than a squeak. He cursed himself, cleared his throat and tried again. "You alright, Jake?"

Jake nervously licked his lips and looked at Simon with scared eyes. It took him a few attempts to force his head to move but finally he nodded and tried to make his lips turn upwards in what he thought was a reassuring smile but merely looked like he was on the verge of tears. Which, he had to admit, wasn't far from the truth.

"Yep," he whispered, "I'm OK. Just a sore neck." He rubbed it as he spoke and winced slightly. "Great, just what I need. A case of whiplash. The Guv will love that."

"About as much as he'll love me writing off my car," Simon sighed. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. The smoke had subsided and he could see more clearly now. There was a tree directly ahead of them and how it had come to be there was something of a mystery. Had the car swerved that much? Why had he swerved in the _first_ place? Oh right; the bright light. A headlight? Well, where was the other vehicle? _"Shit."_

"What?" Jake panicked.

"Was there another car?" Simon asked, "are _they_ alright?"

"I don't know," was all Jake could say.

"I'd better take a look," Simon unbuckled his belt and forced the door open despite its protestations.

Jake watched him step out of the car and wondered if he should follow him. He knew that he probably should. Someone might have needed first aid, after all. But somehow he couldn't convince his hand to move to the door or his feet to get moving. He closed his eyes and swallowed deeply. _No; let Simon deal with this one._

He tried to recall what had happened just a few moments before. He remembered their search and Simon handing him his phone, and then -

" _Lights,"_ he breathed out and reached back up to his neck, "again." For a moment there had been a headlight, shining right through the window, right into their faces. Where had the car come from? The road had been empty for a while and there had been no sign of another vehicle. He tried to shake his head. It was all too reminiscent of the encounter earlier in the evening when a light had sparked Marci's disappearance, except this time it was Jake who'd felt some sort of flashback from the 'headlight'. He couldn't quite place it. It felt like one of those dreams that couldn't quite be recalled but sat on the edge of one's mind, just out of reach. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply once again. "Think, Jake," he murmured to himself, "what happened to us? What can't I rememb-"

"No one."

Suddenly Simon's backside loomed large as he thrust himself into the car, butt-first. He pulled the door closed quickly and rubbed his hands together.

Jake took a few moments to respond to Simon's re-entry and his renouncement. His mind was still working away to recover whatever memory lurked just beyond his field of recall.

"No one?" He repeated eventually, shivering from the blast of cold caused by Simon's arrival.

"There's no one there," Simon told him, his arms crossed to shield him from the cold, "No cars. Nothing to say there was ever anyone else out there."

"But the headlight came right _for_ us," Jake exclaimed, "That car was coming right toward us. We both saw it."

"Ether it was something else or the driver somehow swerved safely and drove away," Simon gave a shrug that hid the anxiety building up inside of him.

"No one could have driven that close and got away unscathed," Jake's grasp on grammar began to loosen as he tried to hold it together, "You know that, Sir."

"Then what else was it?" Simon shook his head, "Aurora Borealis?!"

"I don't know, but there was _something_ ," Jake protested.

"Hey, I'm not saying there wasn't!" Simon cried, "We both saw it, I'm just saying I can't _explain_ it!"

Jake hesitated, biting his lip momentarily. He could see Simon begin to tremble; his arms reached around himself, trying to hold himself still while his teeth chattered and his head turned downward.

"Sir?" Jake began.

"I'm fine, it's just cold out there," Simon interrupted before Jake could say anything. He reached out stiffly to turn the heater up.

"A case of shock is natural after an accident," Jake told him quietly. He waited for Simon to turn around and meet his eye but Simon continued to stare at the dashboard.

"It's been raining and freezing in equal measures all night," he said, trying to hold back a shudder and failing miserably, "I'm bloody cold that's all." he closed his eyes and breathed in slowly. He had to keep calm. He had to hold himself together. They still had a friend to find, and Simon wasn't going to let some twat like Dawson see him showing any sign of weakness. He cleared his throat and tried to pull himself together. "Do you have my phone?"

"What?" Jake took a moment to pull himself out of worrying about Simon. He nodded and started patting himself down to find it. "It should be right here," he tried his lap, the sides of the seat and even in his pockets before realising it must have fallen on the floor when they'd crashed. He reached forward, stopping halfway to grasp his neck. " _Ow_..." he decided not to acknowledge the fact that Simon rolled his eyes. He used his feet to feel around on the floor until he felt something and reached down again, a little more carefully this time. "Got it," he said and returned to an upright position.

Simon took the phone and pressed a couple of buttons.

"I'll call the rescue service and see if we can get the car back on the road," he mumbled, "after all that smoke I'm not even going to try the engine."

"We're not about to explode, are we Sir?" Jake asked anxiously, receiving another roll of the eye.

"I think we'll survive that particular risk," Simon told him and pulled the receiver up to his ear. _"Yes... hi. Thanks for answering. My name's Simon Shoebury and I've had an accident..."_

Jake found himself staring down at his hands as Simon spoke with the car rescue service. The night had been insane and he himself had started to feel as though he'd gone a little crazy too. What was the meaning of the bright light that had seemingly haunted him all night and scared away his oldest friend in a flurry of tears and apologies? He didn't know where to go from there. Life seemed to be as far out of control as possible. He didn't dare look out of the window as the rain cleared once again because he knew those damn stars would be up there, mocking him.

His head was full of questions and the night had answered none thus far, but the meaning of the stars and the light was coming closer. He could feel it. He just didn't know if he was ready to _hear_ it.


	15. Chapter 14: Tomorrow Comes

**Chapter 14**

Jake blew into his cupped hands and stared vacantly at the dashboard while Simon shivered stiffly, holding himself as tautly as he could. His eyes fixed on the heater as though willing it to begin working again.

"How long did they say it was going to take to get out to us, sir?" Jake asked stiffly. He knew the answer; he'd asked three times already, but they'd been sitting in stony silence for the better part of fifteen minutes and he wanted something, anything at all, to break it.

"Could be another hour," Simon's voice cracked as he replied. Jake couldn't ignore that. He glanced sideways at Simon's deathly pale face as he continued to speak. "They'll tow my car to the garage, give us a lift wherever we need to go on the way. To the station, or," he stopped for a moment as a hard shiver took over his body, "or home. Where do you live again?"

Jake was having difficulty remembering his own name, let alone where he lived. It didn't matter anyway.

"I'm not going home until we find her," he said decisively, although he couldn't quite manage to stifle a yawn. He was exhausted. _No wonder,_ he thought as he glanced at his wrist. It wasn't far off time to get up for work.

"She's got to have turned up by now," Simon told him stiffly, "she'll be at work, or at home, or someone will have heard from her." But even _he_ didn't believe his own words. He felt Jake's gaze upon him and slowly turned his head. Jake's guilty expression caused Simon's brow to furrow crossly. "What? Am I bleeding from my ears or something?"

Jake swallowed, a whisker away from turning his back to Simon and ignoring the question. But something inside stopped him. Jake had too much concern and compassion for his fellow man to ignore Simon's pallor.

"You look awfully pale, Sir," he managed to say.

"Well I'm sorry I forgot to borrow Robin's make up bag and overload on the _blusher!"_ Simon snapped.

Jake cleared his throat a little. Simon's reaction had only served to worry him further.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Sir," he began, already nervous of the blast he would surely receive from Simon, "an accident like the one we've just had is enough to give _anyone_ a panic attack..." 

"I did _not_ have a panic attack," Simon snapped, loud enough to send Jake back an inch or two in his seat. It was not, however, enough to stop his line of questioning.

"It's natural to -"

" _I did not have a panic attack!"_ Simon snapped a little more sharply. This time Jake didn't start talking again. Simon took a couple of deep breaths and stared out of the windscreen. The sun had started to peak over the horizon the the fuzzy outline of the tree they'd kissed was started to become increasingly visible through the morning mist. He swallowed hard. _Another car, another tree, another world._ "I just had a flashback, that's all," his tone became flatter, devoid of emotion. He swallowed and stared straight ahead. "I had a-an accident. Worse than this."

Jake turned back to Simon. His honest admission had surprised him.

"When?" he heard himself whisper without even realising he'd spoken.

Simon's eyeline dropped to the dashboard.

"Three years ago," he said quietly. He swallowed deeply, afraid that he was going to choke on the memory bubbling just under his consciousness. He could still hear the sound of his own screams and feel the car rolling over and over as he'd departed for another world. _Gene's_ world. He closed his eyes momentarily. They opened again as Jake asked,

"How bad was it?"

Simon didn't know how to answer that question.

"Pretty bad," he whispered.

There were a few moments of silence. Simon didn't know how to continue that statement and Jake didn't know how to respond to it. Eventually he tried to think of something encouraging and positive.

"Well, you're still here so it can't have been that bad."

Simon felt the world stop turning for a moment. Jake's words felt like a slap to his soul. He literally flinched and felt a lump appear in his throat. Saliva filled his mouth as he attempted to hold back both nausea and tears at the same time. It felt as though an entire eternity passed by. Eon of silence descended upon them during which Jake's fateful words rang around Simon's mind over and over again. He gave one angry, bitter laugh, a whisker away from blurting a furious statement that would give away all the truths he'd spent the last three years keeping to himself.

At the last moment he managed to hold those words back. He choked them down with a cough and tilted his face so that Jake couldn't see his expression contort.

"No," he forced out the words, "I suppose not."

Jake, for his own part, seemed to become fairly uncomfortable, shifting and fidgeting in his seat. He unfastened his seat belt and busied himself buttoning the very top button of his jacket.

"Could have been a lot worse," he found himself stammering, "I lost my mother in a car accident."

Simon's head snapped around faster than he would have liked to admit.

"What?" He cursed himself for blurting out the first word that came to mind but he had no chance of stopping it. A dull pain ached in the back of his chest as Jake looked up at him and repeated his previous comment.

"My mum died in an accident," he found his gaze turning to his lap, "years ago now. I was young when I lost her."

"Shit," Simon let another word slip out without his permission. He flinched and almost slapped his hand over his mouth to prevent any further slips from occurring before clearing his throat and making the best attempt he could at pulling himself together. "Sorry, Jake. I'm really sorry."

Jake tried to shrug but his shoulders didn't seem to be cooperating with his intentions. He drew in a deep breath and let it out as a lengthy sigh.

"Like I said," his voice wavered more than he liked to admit, "it happened a long time ago. I don't remember as much about her as I wish I did."

Simon swallowed but another pesky exclamation left his lips without his permission.

"Me neither." He flinched harder and came very close to slapping himself. What the hell was _wrong_ with him?! Had someone left the tap on full flow that led from his brain to his lips? Jake turned to frown at him and Simon wished that he had something to gag himself with. _Shit_ , now he had no option but to explain what he really meant. "My mother," he tried to clarify, "she died when I was young too." He swallowed again. "Car accident."

"Sir," Jake's whole expression changed. His eyes grew sad and sympathetic and his lips followed suit, "I'm so _sorry._ I didn't know. I mean, I think Robin had talked about your family once or twice but he didn't mention your mum."

Simon folded his arms and stared out ahead of them again. The sunrise was underway by now.

"Like _you_ said," he mumbled quietly. "It was a long time ago." He managed to glance sideways again after a few seconds had passed in silence. Jake was staring at his lap again now. _Good_. Simon felt a lot more comfortable without being watched. "Jake, I'm sorry about your mother. I didn't know either."

Jake tried to smile, even though there was little to smile about. It just seemed polite. His hand rose to his neck and he grasped the ring that he wore around it on a chain. Wearing his mother's wedding ring was as close as he ever felt to her.

"I was just a kid," he said quietly, "I don't even remember much about it. My dad just tried to carry on like nothing ever happened. Think he felt a bit lumbered with me, to be honest."

Simon felt his intrigue spark at Jake's comment.

"Oh?" he said, nonchalantly raising an eyebrow.

Jake gave another sigh and found himself staring out the windscreen.

"Couldn't wait for me to move out and go to uni so he could fuck off back up north. Eventually he married again. Don't think he's been back to London since."

Simon wasn't sure what to say. The conversation wasn't exactly in a comfortable territory. Father/son bonding wasn't really something he wanted to discuss. However, for the first time he found himself genuinely start to let a little of his guard down. When he looked at Jake he saw less of the prudish workaholic with a boy-band complex that he'd been introduced to a couple of years earlier and more of a human being who'd been through one of the hardest days of his life. He found himself leaning back in his seat, relaxing just a little for the first time since they'd started their journey.

"Do you see him much?" he found himself asking and Jake shook his head. As though responding to Simon's shift in attitude his body language changed. Shifting slightly in his seat so that his body turned ever so slightly in Simon's direction he leaned the side of his face back against the seat and looked him in the eye.

"Nah," he admitted, "as little as I can get away with, to be honest." He closed his eyes and made a noise of frustration. He felt bad saying that. "It's not like he's a bad parent or anything. He kept a roof over my head, clothed me. He paid my way until I was old enough to stand on my own too feet. Don't get me wrong," he shuddered a little, thinking about the little he knew about Robin's father. In comparison he had nothing to complain about. "He never hit me, nothing like that. It's just..." he closed his eyes for a moment as he tried to find the right way to explain it. "it's just, it felt like I was a chore he had to attend to. He was going through the motions because he _had_ to, not because he _wanted_ to. I was always like an acquaintance to him rather than a son."

"Sorry," Simon wasn't sure quite what to say. He racked his brain for some consolation he could offer or at the very least a few words to prevent another silence from descending. "Maybe now you're both adults you can get to know him as an equal, if he doesn't want to know you as a father and son?"

"I did try moving up for a while," Jake told him with a sigh, "after I finished uni."

"What happened?" Simon asked.

"I think I'd grown up too much," Jake shook his head, "running around after him with coasters, clearing up his crisp packets and beer cans, asking him what time he was going to be back from the pub, lending him my car," he shook his head, "I couldn't handle that. I didn't move up to be _his_ father. Plus I missed London." He watched Simon nodding slowly, taking it all in. "You've got family in Manchester too, haven't you, sir?"

At first, Simon felt startled by Jake's question. It had come clean out of the blue. When Jake had mentioned the North he could have meant _anywhere_. Liverpool. Sheffield. Leeds. No, it just _had_ to be Manchester, didn't it?

Family in Manchester. _Huh_. Sometimes Simon forgot that his relationship to Gene was public knowledge. _Thanks for that, Gene,_ he cursed his Guv silently. His bibulous announcement at his own welcome back party at which he'd mixed drink and prescription drugs unwisely had meant all their dirty linen had been aired. He felt his body relax a little more as he and Jake leaned a little more toward one another. It had taken almost two years to start a dialogue between them and Simon for one felt more than a little guilty about that. Jake was easy to talk to and his heart was in a good place.

"Yeah," he began eventually, "actually, both sides. I didn't know that until recently. Believe me, discovering I shared my DNA with the Guv wasn't my favourite day of the decade." He let out his breath noisily and ran his fingers back through his hair. His heart had started beating at a more regular pace again and he could tell his shakes had stopped, bar an occasional shiver from the cold. Jake had somehow put him right at ease. No wonder he and Marci got along so well. "But my mum came from Manchester originally too. Got lots of family up there but I don't really know them that well."

"Same here," Jake nodded, "on both sides."

Simon hesitated.

"From Manchester?" he asked.

"Yeah."

Simon felt a couple of wrinkles settle on his forehead.

"Huh. Weird." He rubbed his eye. " _Both_ your parents?" he sought a little clarification.

"Yeah."

"Why did they move to London?"

Jake gave a small shrug and shuffled down a little in his seat, trying to keep as warm as possible.

"She'd already moved to London long before they met," he began, "she'd gone back to Manchester for a family visit, had a mad passionate fling and he followed her back down like a lovesick puppy, so I've been told." He fingered the chain around his neck and felt his mothers' wedding band with his finger tips. "I hear it like some wild romance, every time I talk to anyone in the family," he rolled his eyes, "usually followed by someone asking if _I've_ met anyone special yet, just to make me feel _really_ good about myself with I say no for the twenty-something-th year in a row."

Simon found himself giving a little smile of amusement. Jake's put-upon retellings were funnier than he really wanted to admit. A day earlier he'd have rolled his eyes at them. He felt a few pangs of guilt gnawing away at him and tried to change the subject.

"My dad brought up me and my two sisters on his own," he began, noticing a look of confusion on Jake's face, "not Gene," he clarified.

"Oh," Jake nodded.

"I wish he'd found someone else but," he shook his head, "I don't think there was anyone else _for_ him but my mum." Suddenly his heart started to sink. That was a place his mind hadn't gone in a long time; _his family_. He had worked hard at not thinking about how they had coped after his death but every now and then he felt sure he could hear his dad spouting some gem of wisdom in the back of his mind or see his sister on the street, even though it turned out to be a complete stranger. He swallowed. His dad knew that Simon wasn't his son now. He remembered Alex telling him about the DNA testing undertaken during her brief spell back in the real world. How had he ever coped with such a bombshell? It would have been like losing Simon twice in a row. He bit his cheek, trying to think of something else to say. "So," he clicked his tongue as he finally thought of a question, "how about you? Any siblings?"

"Nope," said Jake, "well, no. that's not entirely true. Half sisters. Two of them. But I never met them."

Simon looked at him curiously.

"Why not?"

Jake slowly shook his head. It was complicated, and he didn't really relish getting into a deep conversation with someone who'd barely given him the time of day since he arrived. At the same time he couldn't bring himself to seem rude. He had to say something. He thought about making up a lie but he truly didn't have the energy.

"From mum's first marriage," he said eventually, "things ended acrimoniously, from what I was told. Anyway, Marci was always like the sister I never had." _Bam_. That was it. His spirits took a deep dive into dark water once again. _"Marci."_

Simon closed his eyes and swallowed. _Shit._ He'd forgotten for a moment what had brought them out into the middle of nowhere in the first place.

"She's got to be back by now," he said, reaching into his pocket for his phone, "we'll try calling around again. The station, her house, Shaz... then, if there's no sign, we'll call the hospitals again."

" _Thank you,"_ Jake sat a little more upright in his seat, "Thank you so much, sir. I cant tell you how much this means."

"That's alright," Simon punched a couple of buttons and held his phone to his ear. He hesitated while he listened to the dialling tone before choking back a very large slice of humble pie. "And, Jake?" he watched Jake acknowledge his name with a questioning look before a guilty smile spread over Simon's face. "Call me Simon," he said quietly.

Jake felt warmth spread through his veins. A new friendship had brought him hope of finding the most important person in his life again. Despite the day from hell, he felt greatly thankful for that.

"Thanks," he said quietly "Simon."

Simon flickered an awkward smile in Jake's direction and started to make his calls. It had taken a dent in the front of his car to do it but he'd seen a little deeper through Jake's skin for the first time. He hated to admit it but he felt more than a little guilty for the last two years of cold shoulders and snide comments. He still couldn't put his finger on quite why that had happened in the first place. Simon wasn't the judgemental type but something about Jake had rubbed him the wrong way from the first moment they'd met. Perhaps, he reflected to himself, they were just a little _too_ similar.

The rising sun and the rescue van arrived at he same time, calling an end to Simon and Jake's ordeal. Marci was still missing but they would return to the station presenting a united front and together they'd raise all the help they needed to find her. The rising of the sun also heralded the end of the stars for another night. At least Jake _hoped_ that it would. He couldn't say for certain. No one short of the world itself held that answer.

 **~xXx~**

 _ **A/N: Hello everyone! I'm still writing and I'm hoping to crank out a few more chapters over November as part of NaNoWriMo. I'm sharing the word count between continuing this fic and getting a head start on a kind-of-separate section that will come later in the story focusing on christmas and a visit from a couple of old friends :) Keep your eyes peeled, and to anyone else participating this year, the very best of luck!**_


	16. Chapter 15: The Break of Dawn

**Chapter 15**

Robin listened to his footsteps echo along the deserted hospital corridor. His eyes turned one way, then the other, looking for the right room. He shuddered involuntarily and cursed himself for it. Hospitals weren't exactly his favourite place. Well, were they _anyone's?_ He didn't know anyone who'd spend their day there out of choice. In fact, he knew several people who were very good at getting _out_ of hospital when they really should have been laid up for a few days.

He adjusted the flowers in the crook of his arm and pulled one of the magazines from the bag of literature he'd picked up for Shaz. He wasn't sure what kind of reading material she'd be interested in so he'd bought a range. A magazine about animal care... well, she _was_ in the canine unit after all... then a crossword puzzle compendium... something about modern computing that heralded the arrival of Windows '98 to the world... and finally a trashy weekly magazine that boasted stories such as _"My U2 Obsession Cost Me Three Fingers!", "Throwing Away My Used Teabag Caused Fifty Thousand Pounds of Damage!" and "My Hubby Was A Secret Dentist!_ ". Wish a sigh he pulled the trashy magazine from the bag and flipped through until he reached an article entitled _Ten Fast Self-Confidence Boosters for Sassy Gals._

He'd managed to get all the way to the fourth confidence-boosting tip when he finally found the recovery ward and wandered into the small side room he'd been directed to. He could hear Shaz's voice before he'd even opened the door.

"I'm _fine!_ I don't _need_ to sleep. I need to get back to _work."_

"You _need_ to make sure you don't end up passing out in your office," Kim's voice told her sternly and Robin felt a smile spread across his face as an involuntary sigh of relief left his lungs. _Kim._ It felt as though they'd been apart for days rather than a few hours. He turned the handle and felt the door swing open. A stark little room greeted him, barely big enough to hold the bed and a chair. Shaz was propped up against a barrage of pillows, one leg slightly raised and bound. On her face she wore a familiar _"I'm fine!"_ expression. Kim was sat in an uncomfortable chair beside her, shaking her head and giving her a stern look. Robin almost giggled. Coming from Kim, who had practically patented the _'I'm Fine!'_ expression, her sternness was beyond amusing.

" _Knock knock,"_ he said a little sheepishly as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

"Robin," Kim's expression changed completely in the blink of an eye. Relief crossed her face. Nothing ever felt quite right when she and Robin were apart, and on such a very strange night she felt that more than ever. She scrambled to her feet and found her lips pressed up against his without even thinking, then her arms wrapped around his neck and held him close. She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh. Neither of them even noticed Shaz's polite coughing noises. In fact, she had to start making comedy puking noises to draw their attention away from one another. Both turned to her a little guiltily.

"Sorry," Robin apologized, his cheeks flushing bright pink, "sorry shaz. Forgot where I was." he felt his eyes close momentarily, "it's been a long night."

"You're not kidding," Kim sighed, checking her watch, "Jesus, it's morning."

"Sorry, I tried to get here sooner," Robin reluctantly stepped out of Kim's embrace and shuffled between her and Shaz's bed. He managed to make it past Kim eventually and slumped down in the single chair. "My poor ankles."

"If you dare mutter the word ' _swollen_ ' I swear to _god_ ," Kim warned as she perched awkwardly on the end of the bed. Shaz couldn't resist smirking. Something about Robin and Kim's relationship seemed to make others happy. It affected her similarly. Initoially she had taken some time to come to terms with learning about the nature of the world and to deal with finding out that Kim was not only alive but thriving. But Kim had changed a great deal since her first visit to the world and Shaz had stopped viewing DCI Stringer as the same Kim she'd spent nights on the dancefloor and wrapped in the arms of. It made a lot of sense on some levels. Shaz had spent a long time grieving for Kim. Finding out that she was back had been an almighty shock, but she wasn't the same Kim Shaz had fallen in love with years ago. She would always grieve for that person. There would always be a bond between them but it wasn't romantic, not any more.

"Kim's been looking after me, Sir," she told Robin, "but she won't let me discharge myself."

"How's the leg?" Robin asked.

"It's great!" Shaz said a little too enthusiastically as Kim leaned toward Robin's ear.

"So were the painkillers they gave her about an hour ago," she whispered which made Robin smile.

"How did the op go?" he asked.

"Bullet came out cleanly," Kim told him, "Shaz was lucky. It's not caused any real damage. She needs to rest."

"I need to get back to the station and give that badly aimed bastard what for," Shaz said crossly, making an attempt at getting up which Kim swooped in to stop.

"Absolutely not!" she cried.

"What did the doctors say about you getting out of here?" Robin asked and Shaz rolled her eyes.

"They said I can discharge myself if I sleep off the anaesthetic first," she tutted, "which s stupid, because if the anaesthetic was still working I wouldn't be awake now, would I?!"

"The doctor says she needs to sleep off the last effects of the anaesthetic and get a proper rest," Kim corrected, "but _someone's_ been on hyper _'I'm Fine!'_ alert for the last two hours and won't close her eyes." She gave Shaz a stern glare but Shaz smiled and shook her head.

"Honestly, I don't need mothering," she said. Then, feeling a little guilty she added, "but it's nice to know you care. Thanks, Kim." She saw a tiny smile appear on Kim's face but knew she was still worrying about her. She tried to change the subject and nodded at the bag in Robin's hand. "What's that?"

"I got you something to keep you amused," Robin told her, laying the bag in her lap and placing the flowers on her bedside cabinet, "and these, too. Don't worry, no grapes,"

Shaz smiled and glanced through the bag.

"Thanks, Sir. That was nice of you."

"What's the latest?" Kim asked.

"It's been crazy," Robin rubbed his temples, "Simon got a bunch of new info from the truck driver. And some crocodiles."

"What?" Kim frowned, confused.

Robin was too exhausted to notice and continued with his recap.

"One _Kellen Boy_ is still at large but that's not bad for a night where we'd expected to pull _one_ of them in. All the ports and airports are on alert. He'll never make it out the country."

"He's going to go underground though," Kim sighed.

"The Guv's taking a break for a couple of hours and then we're starting a fresh round of questioning," Robin told her, "he thinks we might get something more out of them yet."

"I'd like to get in on that," Kim stretched out her arms and let her knuckles crack audibly, "I have a few choice words for Becky the Bastard."

"Which is exactly why the Guv won't let you anywhere near her," Robin told her, "he wants her in one piece, she'll never be able to spill the info if you tear her head off." He couldn't help smiling at Kim's annoyance. "You should go home and get some sleep."

"I need to stay with Shaz," Kim told him, "I promised I'd stay with her."

" _I_ can stay,"Robin offered.

"I don't need babysitting!" Shaz laughed.

"You'll sneak out," Kim folded her arms.

"I will not."

"No, you'll just do that 'I'm Fine!' act and _trick_ them into letting you out early," Kim sighed disapprovingly which made Shaz giggle.

"Didn't you invent that?" she asked and Kim found her cheeks reddening.

"I'm pretty sure Alex dabbled too," she said awkwardly and tried to keep up her stern face.

" _I'll_ stay and keep an eye on her," Robin offered.

" _Oi,"_ Shaz cried, "I'm over the age of eighteen, you know!"

"You'll need someone to drive you home if the doctors let you discharge yourself," Robin pointed out and finally managed to get the upper hand in the argument. Shaz couldn't think of a quick reply to that. She hesitated for a moment. "Or to the station," Robin continued and finally had her attention. She pulled a face. There was no getting out of this one.

"Fine," she sighed crossing her arms.

"I can drive her," Kim offered but Robin shook his head.

"You've been here all night, you've been up almost twenty four hours straight, you need sleep."

"So have you," Kim pointed out.

"I had a few minutes when Gene went off on one about Jake doing a runner," Robin told her, "he's been ranting about it for hours. I couldn't help it."

Kim was torn between laughing and sighing. She felt awkward laughing about Gene's ranting when it was over something that was causing Robin pain.

"How are you doing?" she asked him quietly.

Robin closed his eyes for a moment. He was trying not to think abut Jake if he was honest. He got to his feet and saw Kim's hands stretched out, ready to clasp hold of his. As soon as he clasped them back he felt a sense of warmth flooding his body. He wished all of this could just _stop_ for a moment. He longed for the circus to end just for a little while, so the two of them could retreat to bed, their haven, and recover from a most bizarre night. But he had a sinking feeing _that_ wasn't going to happen for quite a while. He sighed and shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said quietly. He knew that Kim could see through that but this wasn't the time. "Can we talk later?"

"Whenever you want," Kim said quietly. Robin closed his eyes and leaned against her for a moment, quite forgetting where he was all over again. He just needed to feel her close. He half expected Shaz to make more puking noises but nothing happened so the embrace continued until he started to feel a little safer and warmer. He drew back and shared a slight smile with Kim.

" _Thank you,"_ he said quietly. He realised Shaz had been fairly quiet for a few moments and glanced at her, expecting to see her rolling her eyes at them but instead he found her eyes firmly shut. "Shaz?" They both watched her face for a few moments. She didn't move. "Shaz?" A second passed. Two. Three. Finally her mouth opened just a crack and a half snore emerged from her lips.

Kim gave a guilty giggle and closed her eyes.

"Thank _god_ for _that_ ," she breathed a sigh of relief, "It's been a long night. She was so hyper I thought she'd been overdosing on E-numbers!"

"Now you've got no excuse," Robin told her, "Go home, get some sleep."

Kim opened her mouth to resist but all that came out was an irresistible yawn. Slamming her hand over her mouth in embarrassment, she glanced at Robin who was smiling triumphantly.

"Alright," she mumbled, "fine. I'll go home. But just for a couple of hours. Then I'm going back into work."

"I'll stay with Shaz so she won't be alone when she wakes up," Robin promised.

"Try to get a few minutes' kip while she's asleep, would you?" Kim suggested and Robin nodded.

"If the chair lets me," he smiled.

They held one another for a final time and shared one last kiss, this time _without_ an audience. If Kim was honest she really didn't want to leave but her sagging eyelids told another story. It was time to get some sleep.

"Call me when she's discharged?" she asked and Robin nodded.

"No problem," he smiled as they reluctantly let go of each other. He watched Kim walk slowly and tiredly out of the door and listened until her footsteps disappeared from audible reach, then he sank back into the chair with a deep sigh. It had been a crazy night.

He thought about Kim's words. He knew this was his one chance to get a little sleep but he felt too wound up to drop off just yet. Maybe some light reading material would help to relax him? Glancing around, he reached into the bag and retrieved one of the magazines from within. Flipping through to page 27 he leaned back and began to study the fifth tip for increasing the self-confidence of a sassy gal.

" _Now_ ," he murmured, _"Where was I...?"_

 _ **~xXx~**_

 _ **A/N: A belated merry christmas and a very happy new year to everyone! Thank you for your continued support through 2018 where updates have been unavoidably sporadic again. However, I truly want to knuckle down once more and begin writing at a regular pace. I have a rough schedule planned out for the remaining fics with a view to the final chapter coinciding with the ten year anniversary of the last episode of Ashes to Ashes airing in May 2020.**_

 _ **My new year's resolution (more of a goal, really) is to post at least one chapter a week throughout 2018. It means so much to me that there are people still reading this series and following the adventures of a word that's so special to me. Thank you so very much, and have a wonderful end to the year :)**_


	17. Chapter 16: You and Me

**Chapter 16**

Alex's eyelids felt like they had been coated with lead. Opening just one of them was a chore in itself. The room swirled into focus slowly and that was enough for now. She gave a deep sigh and took in the bright light shining through the crack in the curtain. What time was it? How long had she been asleep? _Not bloody long enough,_ that was for certain. She managed to strain her neck muscles enough to spot the top of the digital numbers on the clock beside her and fathomed that it was around nine in the morning. She groaned as loudly as she dared without disturbing the sleeping mountain beside her. She opened her other eye and found herself staring at Gene's face. Every few breaths he gave a half snore/half snort and mumbled something under his breath. Alex mentally acknowledged how used to his night-time behaviour she had become by now. Her mind went back to their first night together back in nineteen eighty five, a day or two after an angry 'floater' arrived in CID, broke three toes and made his imprint on the world. Much had changed since then but Gene's nocturnal habits were not one of them.

She smiled to herself while stroking away a few strands of hair from his face. He looked like he was about to stir for a moment but one super loud snort seemed to settle him back into his slumber. Gene had once claimed he didn't dream. That might have been true once but it certainly wasn't accurate any more. His mumbling became somewhat more audible and Alex caught an occasional word. 'Paperwork' seemed to be one of them. Alex sighed. Must have been having a nightmare.

Gene's arm lolled heavily against her chest and Alex's eyes moved to the ring on Gene's finger. It was a sight that gave her constant reassurance and certainly made her feel a little more grounded on a day where she couldn't be certain that there would be solid ground beneath her feet. The previous night's events had been traumatic and unsettling on many levels and she wasn't sure she was ready to face that again. The day had a strange aura about it; a dark, crawling sense of foreboding that increased as she let her mind travel into areas that she'd been fighting to stay well away from all night. Little things that could have meant anything in isolation but, looking at the bigger picture, seemed to be adding up towards a visit to the pub one way or another. She thought about Jake and his bizarre behaviour, the ridiculous situation with Marci's desertion, the mention of stars and the unknown stories hidden amongst their papers. A cold shudder crept across her shoulders which caused her to grasp Gene a little more tightly and shuffle down into the duvet.

One last grunt, and Gene finally burst out of his slumber with a triumphant cry.

" _I told you, Freddy, yer can all bugger off until I've finished doing me missus."_

"Oh, _lovely!"_ Alex reprimanded Gene with a slight smile and a slap on the chest, "So we need the Kellen Boys as a general audience every time we're making love, do we?"

Gene's eyes bolted open in surprise and confusion for a few seconds. He shook his head with a grunt and rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes.

"No!" he yawned, "didn't you hear me telling the git to bugger off?" he shuddered and pulled the duvet up a little higher, "bloody pervert. He can go and buy himself something from the top shelf and leave us to enjoy ourselves in peace." he turned his head around and saw the display on their alarm clock flip over to ten past nine. "Bugger."

"Time to get up," Alex said helpfully, which drew a barrage of groans and complaints from her slumber mate.

"Nope," Gene pulled the duvet over his head, "time to resign and live out the rest of me days on the beaches of Barbados." He watched Alex slip beneath the covers and looked her in the eye. "Did you get any sleep, Bolly?"

Alex yawned involuntarily.

"Not much," she sighed softly, "You?"

"Better than _you_ by the look of it," Gene ran a finger around Alex's eye where a dark circle had appeared. "Christ, you could trap a small animal in there."

"Thank you so very much!" Alex cried haughtily removing her head from beneath the covers. Gene popped up a moment later and they found themselves sitting up, side by side, glaring at the alarm clock they knew was going to start singing at them in five short minutes time.

It had been around five in the morning when Gene declared that _home_ and _sleep_ were in order, although just a moderate amount was allowed. When they'd reached the point where even Becky the Bastard had started snoring mid-sentence they knew they had to let everyone get some sleep. Gene knew how big this operation was and couldn't risk anything going wrong. He wasn't going to let lack of sleep cause someone to make a slip-up that could let Becky and co slip through their fingers, although he did claim to hear her confess to all manner of crimes between snores. Alex, however, had assured him sleep-talking confessions were not a reliable way to get a conviction.

By the time they'd stumbled through the door and tried to force themselves to eat a sandwich, only to both wake up with cucumber slices stuck to their faces and a very bready pillow underneath them, they crawled up the stairs and into bed – a decision upon which Alex had suddenly found it impossible to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time.

Maybe she was worrying about Marci or panicking about the stars. Maybe the stress of the big operation had given her insomnia. Maybe she was so hyped by their grand arrest count that she just couldn't sleep. Or perhaps she was just a little _too_ tired. She told herself repeatedly that she needed to get to sleep. She cursed herself for not managing to stay that way. Perhaps the four hour deadline was looming large in her subconscious?

"Breakfast?" She asked Gene with another yawn which seemed to be contagious. Gene shook his head as he gave the loudest, longest yawn Alex had ever laid witness to before finally saying with a sniff,

"Too tired to eat. Me mandibles have gone on strike."

"I'll spoon feed you," Alex joked as her legs slid out of the bed and she grabbed for her clothes. She'd had no time to lay out a new outfit before heading to bed but didn't think Becky the Bastard deserved the energy expended in choosing fresh clothes. It wasn't as though the Kellen Boys would be dipping into a bottomless suitcase of clothes to pick a new outfit for every interview. Gene watched her leave the room and listened for the sound of the bathroom door closing and the burst of water spewing from the shower head before allowing his head to drop to his hands. Or had his hands risen to his forehead? He wasn't sure. Maybe they met in the middle. A lengthy sigh followed.

"Back to the slaughterhouse," he mumbled to himself. Blasts of the previous night came back to him. The good, the bad and the downright unspeakable. A mental checklist started to form in his mind. _Check on Shaz, grovel to the Super, find the last of the Kellen boys to complete his collection_. He started to shake his head. How could one night hold so many contradictions? Things had gone so much better than he'd hoped and yet so, so much worse at the same time.

The radio sprung into life which sent a jump of surprise through his body and he turned around to glare at it angrily.

" _Sneaky bastard,"_ he mumbled as he stomped out of bed and turned to give the machine agood thump.

" _And that was Cee Lo Green with his number one hit, and really, the hit of the year,"_ the morning DJ told him brightly, " _Fuck you -"_

"Eff you _too!"_ Gene glowered with some outrage, finally hitting the _off_ button with his fist before hesitating for a moment. Were they allowed to say _fuck_ on the radio? He didn't think so. "I cant keep up with bloody broadcast regulations," he grumbled under his breath, "I have enough trouble keepin' up with which _minorities_ I'm allowed to take the piss out off." He shook his head. He didn't really care. He'd never heard of Cee Lo Green or his foul mouth. But he did have a job to do and a brand new day to get the results they were seeking. Maybe if he was quick enough he could even jump in the shower with Bolly.

"Might be the only way I'm going to get up this morning," he mumbled as he stomped past the closed curtains and through the hallway.

~xXx~

"OK, _you_ check her office and the canteen. Go through uniform, see if anyone's heard anything or seen her."

"Right."

"I'll check my office and check the quiet room, then I'll meet you in CID," Simon checked his watch, cursing himself silently. _How many times?_ OK, so synchronising watches wasn't an option. "...Whenever you're done checking the canteen," he concluded. "Gene and Alex should be in by then. We'll talk to them -"

"They didn't give a damn last night," Jake sweated, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

"We'll _make_ them listen," Simon promised, "this isn't _like_ Marci. Everybody knows that. Someone has to have seen or heard _some_ thing. We'll get the word out; tell uniform." he watched Jake hang his head and could only imagine the way he was feeling. He remembered times when Robin or Kim had been in danger, the fear of losing your best friend was suffocating. "We'll find her, Jake."

Jake looked back up at Simon, finally catching his breath. He felt shattered beyond words. The last few hours had been a blur of phone calls, false Marci-spottings and rides in the cars of strangers.

X

After the rescue truck arrived there was a lot of sitting around while a burly man with a large spanner tutted at Simon's car and made sucking noises against his teeth while he shook his head. Eventually both the car and the two stranded detectives were getting a ride back to the garage where a further group of burly men with spanners all stood around, tutting at Simon's car and drinking tea. After being plied with several hot drinks, Simon and Jake started another round of phone calls which had turned up nothing.

Finally, one of the burly men drove them in what was an unexpectedly petite mini, barely able to hold the three of them, dropping them off at their location of choice but not without three false Marci-spotting stops along the way. The first one was Jake's fault. The second one was Simon's. By the third Scary Spice lookalike they'd passed, even their _driver_ was getting into the spirit of things and skidded to a halt so they could run out and check to see if it was her. _No dice._

Lacking transport, they'd travelled on foot between a few places they thought they might find her. The club, even though it had been closed for hours. The greasy spoon cafe at which she would stop at to pick up a bacon roll when she worked early shifts. _Latte Land_. Finally they tried Marci's flat, knocked until their knuckles were raw but received nothing more than an annoyed glare from one of her neighbours. Eventually Jake had murmured _"Hang on,"_ and fished his keyring out of his pocket.

Simon had been confused at first, then somewhat horrified to see Jake unlock the door.

" _What are you doing?"_ he'd panicked.

" _She gave me a key for emergencies,"_ Jake had told him, "I think this qualifies, don't you?" Simon had thrust his hands into his pockets and jogged up and down on the spot for a minute or two while Jake stepped inside. To his horror, his new-found friend beckoned him inside. _"Are you coming or what?"_

Simon closed his eyes for a moment and gave a deep groan.

" _Going to be done for braking and entering,"_ he'd muttered to himself, "I just know it."

" _We're not breaking in!"_ Jake had reminded him repeatedly as Simon reluctantly followed and stayed in the hallway whilst Jake flew from room to room and came back looking grim-faced. _"She's not been here all night,"_ he'd said, sweating now from both the exertion and the stress of the search.

" _Are you sure?"_ Simon had asked as his eyes scanned the walls. In the narrow hall Marci had managed to gather a warm collection of photographs, mostly featuring faces Simon knew. There were some of herself and Jake on a night out. Some of her with Shaz. Some of Marci with her clubbing crowd and other members of her social circle. There was one of Marci with an older lady that Simon assumed must be her mother.

" _Her bed's not been slept in,"_ Jake had told him.

" _Maybe she made it?"_

" _And there's no cup on the table or in the sink,"_ Jake had continued, _"Marci can't go without at least one cup of tea when she gets home or gets up. Sir, feel the air, it's as cold as fuck. She's not been home, there's been no heating on all night."_

Simon had to admit defeat at that point. He'd been hoping upon hope that Jake was just worrying unduly, even after a whole night with no sign of Marci.

" _Alright,"_ he'd said eventually, " _Alright. We need to step this up a gear."_

Jake had looked at Simon expectantly. It made simon feel a little anxious. For the first time all night he'd seen hope in Jake's expression. He hoped Jake wasn't expecting _too_ much of him. The last thing he wanted to do was to fuck this up.

" _What are we going to do, Sir?"_ Jake had asked him.

Simon wasn't altogether certain.

" _We need to get some more bodies onto this,"_ he'd said firmly, _"we'll go to the station. The morning shift has started by now, we'll ask around. Maybe she's gone straight to work?"_

Jake had shaken his head with a puff of doubt.

" _I don't think she would."_

" _Maybe not, but it's the best way to get the word out and to check for her along the way,"_ Simon pointed out, _"maybe she's hiding out in her office? Sleeping on the desk?"_

" _Nah,"_ Jake had sighed with a shake of his head, _"Too near the canteen. The smell of sprouts would drive her round the bend."_

" _Maybe there's some other clue there,"_ Simon had shrugged, just trying to offer Jake a little of the hope that had sparkled momentarily in his eyes, _"an address, somewhere she might have gone, someone who might know."_ He'd moved towards the front door, beckoning Jake to follow him, _"we can stop at my place on the way. It's just down the road from the station. You can have a shower and get changed."_

" _I don't have anything to change into,_ " Jake had objected.

" _You can borrow a shirt or something,"_ Simon had offered. If he was honest all he'd really wanted was to give Jake a few minutes break from his desperate search. He was already on the edge as it was.

" _I don't want to waste time, Sir,"_ Jake had hung his head. He closed the door behind him and locked it as Simon talked to him gently.

" _We're going to find her, Jake. But you have to keep your own strength up and keep a cool head. A shower, a coffee, a piece of toast."_

Eventually Jake had agreed to the short break and followed Simon back to his flat where Simon graciously showed Jake to the bathroom, found him a shirt and prepared some coffee and breakfast for him.

" _I'm just grateful you didn't give me your jumper,"_ Jake had joked nervously as he walked out of the bathroom and found his way to the kitchen. He just about managed to eat half a slice of toast and drink a mug of coffee before he dragged Simon out of the door and pelted down the road to the front entrance of the station.

X

Which was why he was sweaty and breathless as he and Simon parted ways and set off on the next leg of their search. He nodded sombrely at Simon.

"See you in CID," he confirmed and marched towards uniform.

Simon nodded back and made his way up a long staircase and toward CID. He looked into the sparse quiet room on the way and found it empty.

"Marci?" he called nervously, even though there was quite clearly no one to respond, let alone the woman of the hour. He cursed himself for being an idiot and thrust his hands into his pockets. A spitball sailed past him as he marched down the corridor and a sneaky Bammo gave him a mock salute from the end of the hallway.

"Oh, _very_ mature," Simon admonished him, "one more of those and you're going to get a fully built model of Starbug in a very painful orifice."

"Simon?"

Simon's head turned to the sound of the voice. A very anxious James peered out of Simon's office doorway and his eyes widened hugely. _"Simon!"_ he cried with a gasp of utter relief. To Simon's surprise he found James hurtling towards him and a second later was embraced in a tight squeeze.

"James?" Simon tried to get his bearings, "what's the matter?"

"What's the _matter?"_ James cried, "You've been gone all night! I didn't know where you were or whether you were OK, and then I got a call from some _breakdown_ company saying they've removed half a tree from the front of your car."

"You knew I was out looking for Marci," Simon was shocked by James's panic.

"But that was _hours_ ago," James reminded him, "I thought you'd been in an accident!"

"I was," Simon closed his eyes for a moment, "But I'm OK," he said quickly. James finally let Simon out of his grasp. "You could have called my mobile," he hissed.

"I did, it was engaged or out of range all night," James said breathlessly. Simon studied his expression. His tired eyes glistened with the tiniest trace of a tear. There were dark circles beneath them where his lack of sleep had taken its toll. His skin was almost grey, drained of colour by fear. A little twinge of guilt started to creep across Simon's face. He hadn't even _thought_ about calling James to tell him what was going on. Perhaps that was partly because of his embarrassment factor. Mostly though he just hadn't realised James would be sitting up all night, waiting for a call.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I guess I'm not used to having someone there to care about me." he hesitated, glancing down and shuffling awkwardly, "It's been a long time." He bit his lip and looked back up at James. "Sorry, James."

James's expression softened. His fear and annoyance faded away little by little and gave way to pure relief.

"Sorry too," he mumbled awkwardly, aware that Bammo was watching from the doorway of CID. Aware that he'd been noticed, Bammo turned around, laughing under his breath.

" _Right pair of poofs,"_ he mumbled. His words brought a burning redness to James's face and an anger to Simon's.

"What did you say?" he demanded.

Bammo chewed on the end of his coffee stirrer and glanced around with a smirk plastered across his face.

"Nothing," he said.

"I _heard_ you," Simon scowled. It wasn't the first time by any means but in the past he'd been far too lacklustre about addressing the slurs he'd been subjected to. If he was honest he didn't really care. Bammo was just a bloody nuisance. But now he was with James he had another person to protect, someone who wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such derogation. "Don't think you can just walk away."

"Si, just leave it," James hissed, a hand rising to block Simon as he took a step or two in Bammo's direction, "forget him. Tell me what's happened. Did you find Marci? What happened to the car?"

"No, we didn't," Simon watched Bammo slip away, his insult unpunished, for now. His eyes turned to the side and he gave his office a cursory glance through the doorway. He could only see part of the room but there were no Spice Girl lookalikes in attendance. He shook his head and breathed out slowly. "We were driving for ages. We've called the hospitals, we even tried her flat. Jake has a key, but she hadn't been there all night. No one's seen her, no one knows where she is or what happened last night. She just flipped out, by the sounds of it." He felt himself shudder as the bright light flashed back in his mind's eye. Hoping James hadn't seen his physical reaction, he walked towards CID with James following closely. "The roads were slippery and a car came out of nowhere, at least I think that's what happened. There was a headlight, or something," Simon flinched. He didn't want to go into that line of thought any deeper. "I put the brakes on but we made friends with a tree."

James flinched. The thought of Simon in an accident made him feel the kind of fear he'd never imagined that he could experience.

"Are you OK? Were you hurt?" he asked quickly and Simon shook his head.

"Just shaken," he said, "I was fine."

"And DI Dawson?"

"He's fine too," Simon felt his heart sink, "or he will be when he finds Marci." The lights on the chequerboard ceiling lit up as they walked through the office which did little to settle Simon's nerves. He wandered to the empty desk vacated by Marci when she earned her promotion, sat on its edge and picked up a stray pencil. Tapping it against his leg, he scanned the office as though hoping he might find her under a desk or something. _No Marci._ "Listen, he's going to meet me back here in a few minutes after checking her office and the canteen. We're going to speak to Gene and get a real search party going. Are you in?"

James swallowed. Every new challenge sent a shiver of anxiety through his bones but he wanted to fight that. He _had_ to. He hadn't broken free from the darkness just to live out his life in fear. He tried to nod confidently.

"Sure," he said.

Hasty footsteps drew their attention to the doorway and a few moments later Jake arrived, looking flustered.

"No sign?" Simon asked a little unnecessarily.

Jake shook his head.

"No," he said.

Simon nodded slowly and got to his feet. He could hear the voices of Alex and Gene making their way closer. It was time to step things up a gear or two. A new day had begun. Hopefully a few hours of sleep had brought a fresh outlook to the Guv.

Well, Simon could dream, couldn't he?


	18. Chapter 17: And How I Wish

**Chapter 17**

Gene felt a sinking feeling as soon as he saw Simon and the others staring in his direction as he made his entrance.

"What's this? The welcome committee?" He grunted, shoving his way past them.

"Gene," Simon called after him, "we need a word."

" _'Bollocks',"_ Gene said decisively, "That's a good word. Unless you've got one that tops it, I'll be in my office preparing for round two."

" _Gene,"_ Simon called again as Gene arrived at the door to his office. He waited for it to open but it stayed firmly shut. Gene gave it a slight kick and glared at it.

"What?" he asked crossly.

"Marci's still missing," Simon felt his heart rate rise. Why was he so nervous? Talking to Gene was never a easy matter but for some reason this was making him feel more anxious than usual. Perhaps more was _riding_ on it than usual, Simon considered.

"She's probably still in make up at the BBC studios, waiting for tonight's T _op o' the Pops,"_ Gene blasted as Alex made an apologetic gesture and hurried through CID toward him.

"What I think the Guv _means_ ," she began, not sure whether she was more annoyed with Gene for his attitude or Marci for her disappearance, "is that we have four of the five Kellen Boys in our cells, waiting to spill the beans, and we have to keep on top of this operation. We need to squeeze out as much information as we can get from them before our missing suspect hops on the next flight out to a sunnier climate and we wave goodbye to the chance of gaining a full set."

"This is serious," Simon addressed Alex directly this time, "Jake told me what happened. Something spooked her, last night in the car."

"Probably the sales of her latest CD," Gene grunted, shoving the door open with more force than should have been necessary. He looked up and down its wooden construction and scowled. _"We will be 'avin' words,"_ he told it with another kick and hobbled toward his desk.

" _Alex,"_ Simon tried again, more urgently this time, "We were driving all night and we couldn't find her."

"Have you tried her family?" Alex asked, not altogether sure how concerned she was supposed to be in this situation.

"She doesn't _have_ any," Jake shook his head, "not any more."

Alex bit her lip.

" _How_ long has she been missing now?" she began to question, but before anyone could reply Gene barked her name.

" _Bollyknickers!"_

Alex's head snapped up to attention and she glanced into the office where Gene was wearing the type of scowl she'd not seen since the early eighties. _Jesus Christ._ She rolled her eyes, torn between concern for a colleague and concern for her husband. Something was eating Gene. Nothing felt right. She shivered involuntarily which brought her round a little from her half daze. She glanced from Simon to Jake and took a deep breath.

"How about the hospitals?" she suggested.

"Tried them, twice," Simon told her.

"Three times," Jake corrected.

Alex glanced toward Gene's door then back to the others.

"I'll talk to him," she promised and trotted toward the doorway, not really relishing the conversation she was about to have. A moment of silence descended as the door closed behind her but it was short-lived as the sound of a familiar voice wafted along the corridor towards them. Jake's head snapped up and their argument from the previous night was forgotten for a moment.

 _"Robin,"_ he breathed in relief. He moved toward the door quickly with Simon and James just behind. To their surprise, Robin wasn't alone. Beside him walked Shaz, assisted by crutches which she didn't seem to be using very well.

"That's the _third time_ you've stepped on my toe!" Robin protested, half-laughing.

"You keep getting in my way!" Shaz retorted with a giggle, but abruptly stopped as they saw the gathering around the door. "Jake? Sir? What's going on?"

Jake was torn between blurting out his anxieties and his confusion over Shaz's arrival.

"You had a _bullet_ in your leg," he protested eventually.

"Which is why I'm armed and dangerous," Shaz said, shaking a crutch at him and almost stumbling over.

"She's also had a lot of painkillers," Robin told them, "steady, Shaz." He glanced awkwardly at Jake. The last time they'd spoken, everything had fallen apart. He wasn't sure what to say, what he _could_ say or what he _wanted_ to say, but he need not have worried because Jake had more pressing matters than their fight and it seemed to have been forgotten - or at least swept under the carpet for a little while.

"Shaz," he zeroed in on his friend, "have you seen Marci?"

Shaz blinked and looked up at Jake in utter bewilderment.

"I've just come from the hospital," she said.

"Have you heard from her?" Jake demanded, "has she called you, or -"

"I don't know, I've not been home yet," Shaz started to frown, "what's going on?" she glanced at Simon and James who were standing around grim-faced backing band. "Jake, tell me," she said a little more urgently. She felt her heart starting to sink, almost like a physical sensation in her chest, like the sun of her life setting.

"Marci's missing," Jake told her, watching her face drop as his words sank in.

" _What?"_ Shaz whispered. She suddenly felt incredibly relieved to have the crutches to hold her up because her legs were feeling decidedly wobbly. "When? What happened?" A n element of panic crept into her voice, "was it during the operation?" she demanded, "did one of them Kellen Boys get her?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Simon began but Jake cut him off.

"I mean, that's possible," he said, a secret fear creeping up through to the surface, "we don't know _what_ happened to her. She had some kind of strange turn. Something scared her, I don't know what. She left the car and ran."

" _What?"_ Shaz looked from one face to another, hoping for some sort of explanation but none was forthcoming, "this isn't funny."

"It isn't supposed to be," Jake found his own voice louder and higher than he was expecting it to be. He tried to keep his emotions under control but it was getting harder with every moment that passed. "Shaz, you and Marci split up and neither of you will tell me why." He watched Shaz look away painfully, "Marci's been going through some stuff, but I don't know _what_. Is there anything you know? _Anything_ at all?"

Shaz felt her mouth open a millimetre or two as her brain scrambled to work out a reply. _Should_ she reply? She wasn't even sure about that. The pain medication was clouding her thoughts a little as it was and the strange welcome-committee had bombarded her with confusing news. Eventually she managed to utter,

"Marci's missing? What-what happened?"

"I told you as much as we know," Simon tried to stay as calm as he could, "Jake said she flipped out when a headlight came towards her."

"She fled the car, crying that she was sorry, but she hadn't done anything," Jake shook his head, "Shaz, you _have_ to help me. I need to find her."

"Has she said anything to you?" Simon asked, "anything that might explain her behaviour?"

"Funny, it takes her being a missing person before you even _notice_ her behaviour," Shaz blurted then felt instantly guilty. She froze as both Simon and Jake seemed to edge a little closer.

"What's been going on, Shaz?" Jake asked her urgently, failing to filter his words, "I know she's not been herself lately but I don't know what's behind it, except that we've both been seeing stars."

" _Stars?"_ Shaz glanced at Simon whose eyes widened with a jolt of panic. He tried to shake his head imperceptibly and Shaz swallowed hard. It was strange but for the most part she didn't even think about Gene and Co being invaders in her world any more. Initially the thought that she wasn't real... that she was just some sort of _drone_ , like an NPC making up the numbers in a game that Gene and Alex were playing... had started to thoroughly mess with her mind. After some time had passed though she came to see it differently. This was _her_ world. It had existed long before Gene arrived and would continue to live after he departed eventually for the Railway Arms. Gene and the others were visitors, and for the most part she remained glad to have them there. But there were secrets she had to keep from her closest friends. That was a hard position to be in. Perhaps that was the reason she rarely thought about it. Stars, she knew, were par for the course as far as being a copper under Gene was concerned. The thought that the writing might be on the wall for Jake and Marci filled the pit of her stomach with the coldest dread. She cleared her throat and started again. "Have you tried her flat?"

"Her flat, her office, the club, the hospitals, down in uniform," Jake counted his list of location off on his fingers, "I even checked the cells to see if she'd been picked _up_. She wasn't making a lot of sense last night. Someone might have thought she was _on_ something."

" _Hmpf!"_ Shaz gave a loud snort before she could stop herself. She saw four pairs of eyes staring at her and took an unsteady step backwards.

"What?" Jake demanded, "what was _that_ for?"

"What was what for?" Shaz tried in vain to cover her tracks but no one was fooled.

"Shaz?" Robin began, moving slowly around, "do you know something?"

"What do you know?" Simon asked.

"I don't know anything!" Shaz gave a desperate shrug but no one believed her innocent protest.

"Why _did_ you split up with Marci?" Jake asked, "It was so out of the blue."

"Things... hadn't been right for a long time," Shaz explained.

"No, you two were _solid,_ " Robin interrupted, "You seemed _made_ for each other."

"Sometimes things just don't work out," Shaz said huffily.

"There was a reason," Jake insisted, "I never knew what it was, the reason why you split up _before_ , back in the summer." He saw Shaz lower her eyes and swallow. "What was it, Shaz?"

"It's between the two of us," Shaz said weakly, "It's none of your business."

"My best friend is _missing_ ," Jake said sternly, "that _makes_ it my business."

Shaz swallowed and closed her eyes, backed into a corner.

"It isn't my place to say," she whispered.

"Then there _is_ something?" Jake jumped on her words but Simon held out his arm to calm Jake down a little. He moved closer to Shaz and stooped down a little to speak to her.

"Shaz," he said gently, "If you've ever loved Marci and there's _anything_ you know, whatever it is, you owe it to her to tell us. The more we know, the better chance we have of finding her."

Shaz slowly raised her head. She tried to ignore Jake's almost manic eyes and focused on Simon. He wasn't usually the cool voice of serenity. But this once he brought order to the chaos.

"Marci got into some trouble," she said, her voice trembling, "back in the summer."

"What kind of trouble?" Simon persisted.

"Painkillers," Shaz whispered.

Simon hesitated.

"Painkillers?" he repeated quietly, "for her back?"

Shaz bit her lip.

"I think that's how it started," she said quietly.

Simon hesitated and looked toward Jake who was staring at Shaz with either disbelief or confusion, he wasn't sure which.

"What are you saying?" he asked, as gently as possible, "Shaz grew reliant on them?" Shaz's silence spoke volumes. "Did she get help?"

"She got clean," Shaz whispered, "I'm certain of that. It drew to a head just before the Guv's wedding and we split up. I told her she needed help. I wasn't going to watch her waste her life on those things."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jake demanded. When Shaz dared to glance his way he felt guilty for his sharp tone. That wasn't what he'd really wanted to ask. "Why didn't _she_ tell me?" he corrected.

"She was ashamed," Shaz gave a soft shrug, "She didn't want anyone knowing. She didn't tell anyone."

"But _you_ knew," Jake addressed her seriously.

"Only because I caught her in the act," Shaz shook her head at the memory. "It had escalated," she whispered, "I went round to her flat one night when she didn't turn up for our date and I found her, high as a kite."

Jake swallowed.

"No."

"I'm sorry, Jake," Shaz whispered, "really sorry. You shouldn't have had to find out this way."

"I don't believe you," he said firmly.

"Jake," Simon said quickly, "right now we just need to focus on getting Marci back. That way you can _ask_ her to her face. Shaz was brave enough to tell you what was going on, at least have the same courage to accept her admission at face value."

"She did quit," Shaz reiterated, "she was doing really well. I was so _proud_ of her."

"And then what?" Robin asked, shaking his head at the revelation.

"I don't know," Shaz took a deep breath, "she was doing so well, she got promoted, we were back together and everything was fine, until..." she closed her eyes and trailed off. Simon looked at her seriously.

"Go on," he encouraged.

"A few weeks ago," Shaz took a deep breath, "suddenly... I started to notice _changes_ in her again. I didn't want to believe it... But things got so bad I couldn't ignore it. I _warned_ her. I _told_ her what would happen if she went back on opiates, and I called it off."

"But why would she go back to them if she was doing that well?" Jake demanded. He wasn't expecting an answer if he was honest but he was feeling so mixed up and desperate that he couldn't keep his emotions in check. He breathed in deeply and tried to rephrase his question. "Do you have any proof? Did you see her take anything, or -"

"Jake, I'm _sorry,"_ Shaz shook her head seriously, "I know you don't want to believe it but it's true."

"Then where's your proof?"

"I _know_ , OK?" Shaz's temper began to fray. The constant questioning had started to take its toll. "I went through it with her once already, I know what she's like when she's herself and I know what she's like when she's not."

"When did you notice the changes in her behaviour?" Simon tried to be the level headed one but even so the thought that Marci had been struggling with addition seemed a little beyond belief.

"It was when she got that promotion," Shaz spoke sharply, "just after. When she got her new office and started _hiding_ in there." she flinched as something struck her. "In fact, it was the day that -" she hesitated for a moment, " _he_ started work here," she concluded, jabbing a finger in James's direction, sending him reeling back a step or two until a table blocked his path.

" _Me?"_ James asked somewhat superfluously. It was more to fill a sudden silence than anything.

"You started work and _she_ started cracking up," Shaz took a pained step toward him. Simon swallowed and shuddered, the sudden turn of events bringing a cold shiver down his spine. He stepped between them a little unnecessarily in case some kind of altercation should break out but all Shaz needed were words. "You were the one who drove her to it," she continued as the pieces finally settled in place, "You somehow got your feet under the table here and talked everyone round -"

" _Shaz!"_ Robin was surprised to be the one to interject. He felt his face flush as Shaz continued.

"One by one everyone agreed to give you a second chance, even after everything you did -"

"But I-I don't remember -" James stammered anxiously. Above one eye of his eyes a vein started to twitch and he clamped his fingers down on it for a few seconds while Shaz's sharp tongue continued its lecture.

"But _Marci_... you never even _spoke_ to _her_."

"I've barely even _seen_ her," James protested. Something started to hurt inside his head, throbbing away like a black hole in the distance; opening wider, bit by bit, piece by piece.

"You killed her _boyfriend!"_ Shaz's jaw jutted forward as she hissed with fury, "you killed _Eddie!"_

" _I -"_ James's eyes closed for a moment. It felt like a supersonic boom inside of his head. There were no memories as such, but his senses lit up like a fruit machine. _Sounds, smells, flashes._ None of it made sense but every word Shaz spoke dropped in another piece of a puzzle that he didn't want to complete.

"When Eddie died in that blast it took her _months_ to even _start_ learning how to cope," Shaz continued, "and when the anniversary came she couldn't deal with it. _That's_ what started her on the pills in the first place, and she'd been doing so _well_. Then the day you started here, she couldn't cope again and she found the pills again. Thank you _so much_ , Detective Inspector Keats. Thanks for your contribution!"

"I don't remember _anything,"_ James protested, shaking internally. He wanted her to shut the fuck up and stop talking. This wasn't him. It _wasn't him!_ Whoever she was talking about felt so far removed from the flesh and blood now trembling and sweating and wishing her words away.

"Look, Shaz," Simon began but James carried on.

" _I don't know what I can say -"_

"How about _'I Resign'_?" Shaz suggested.

To James, it was like taking a shot to the heart. For the last few months he'd worked night and day to be accepted as a colleague and a friend. To show that Jim Keats was firmly in the past. To prove that he was a member of Fenchurch East. To show that he and _Jimbo_ were not the same person. Not that Keats was a person at all. He felt his stomach churning and his head started to shake, his brain scrambling to find the words to respond to Shaz's allegations but the black hole in the back of his mind was growing stronger and the pain more persistent. He flinched and pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to gather his thoughts but before he had chance to respond Jake had more sharp words for Shaz.

"All this time it's been going on behind my back and neither of you thought to tell me?"

Shaz took a few moments to even realise Jake was speaking. She was so caught up in her anger that she'd quite forgotten he was there. She turned to him and took a deep breath, preparing to defend herself rather than to accuse.

"It wasn't my place, Jake."

"Then why didn't she tell me?" Jake demanded. He panted a little, out of energy from his sleepless night and the shocking news. He didn't know how to process everything happening at once.

"She didn't tell _anyone_ ," Shaz reminded him, "I caught her in the act. Otherwise I might never have known. Maybe what you need to ask yourself is," she looked him in the eye, "how didn't you _notice?"_

Simon's eyes darted from one face to another. Shaz's anger and stress, James's mortification and emotional torment, Jake's distress and confusion. He didn't know who to address or where to place himself first. Just as his mouth opened to try to calm the commotion he felt something in the air. It was more a feeling than anything, a shiver, a tingling of the hair down the back of his neck. He closed his eyes for a second and knew, just _knew_ that when he opened them the ceiling would be peppered with stars. It was so tempting just to stay right there, eyes closed, forever. However, he knew he had to face it,. This was bigger than him.

Eyes open. _There they were._ Stars, dancing across the ceiling. He swallowed hard and shot a glance at Robin whose stricken expression showed he'd seen them too. A split second later and they were gone.

"What was that?" Jake asked, blinking as though slightly dazed. Simon didn't know how aware Jake was of what had happened, nor of how much Shaz or James recognised the bright lights that had jumped around above them, but he wasn't going to wait around to find out.

"Listen," he said quickly, almost choked by the racing of his heart. He swallowed hard and focused on keeping his limbs stiff and still when all they wanted to do was to tremble like crazy, "listen, I'm going to speak to the Guv and then we're going to find Marci. Jake..." he watched Jake's wounded, scared face turn in his direction, seeking the kind of reassurance that Simon simply didn't have to offer him. "Jake, I know you must be feeling..." he flinched. If he was honest he had no idea _how_ Jake must be feeling right there and then. Words meant nothing. "I can't begin to imagine," he corrected himself, "how you must be feeling right now but this isn't Shaz's fault -"

"No, it's _his,"_ Shaz began, glaring at James who took a scared step backward.

"Nor is it James's," Simon said with a sharper tone, "and Jake, when we find Marci you can talk to her about everything. We can't assume anything without hearing it from the horse's mouth. So _please_ ," he sounded a little desperate by now but he couldn't rein in his worries, "while I speak to the Guv just stay calm. Stop blaming each other when we really know nothing right now. We don't even know if Marci's been taking anything."

"I still find that hard to believe," Jake said with an accusatory glare at Shaz.

Simon took a step or two backwards in the direction of Gene's office.

"So let's find her and ask," he said urgently, "and that means I need to talk to Gene. Wait here, stay calm and _please_ ," he closed his eyes for a moment before he finished, only half jokingly, "don't kill each other."

He spun on his heels and began marching towards Gene's office. His heart-rate started to climb again and his mouth felt very dry all of a sudden. Speaking to Gene wasn't exactly his favourite thing to do and he could already almost feel the wrath he was about to receive, but he also knew Marci's safety was worth it. He reached the doorway and stared at Gene's name in front of him, swallowed hard and closed his eyes for just a moment, then reached up slowly to knock but before his knuckles made contact with wood or glass the door creaked and opened up for him.

Through the doorway, a shocked and annoyed Gene stopped talking to Alex, mid-word, and slowly turned around to see who dared to interrupt his flow. He didn't know what had surprised him more; his door opening for someone other than himself or the fact it had been for _Simon_. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he flexed his fingers and cracked his knuckles, finally addressing his unexpected arrival.

"Can I help you, Shoebury?"

Simon felt a shiver of anxiety flow through every vein in his body but he held firm. He realised in that moment that he'd regained something recently, something he'd lost right from his first days in Gene's world: his sense of worth. His situation, loneliness and the wrath of Gene had stripped that away from him very quickly back in the days of late 1995. Now, with friends to support him and James to protect, that had returned little by little. And that same sense of worth was going to help him to bring back a dear friend.

"Yes, Guv," he said firmly, "I think you can."

Then, with Jake and the others watching on, he stepped inside the room as the door closed behind him.

 _ **~xXx~**_

 _ **A/N: I'm so sorry it's been such a long time since I last updated. In all honesty I have no idea where the time is flying. We're already a quarter of the way through the year and it feels like 2018 just began. I am still intending to begin writing and updating once a week. The start of the year has been peppered with health and electricity problems, and although I've managed to keep drawing it's been at the expense of writing. But this world is very much alive and will be updating as often as I can. Thank you so much for staying with me and this long journey – I really do appreciate it more than you know :)**_


	19. Chapter 18: It Ain't Easy

**Chapter 18**

Simon swallowed hard. He hoped upon hope that there hadn't been an audible gulp. This was new territory for him. How many times had Gene's door opened of its own accord for Simon? Once? Twice? Twice was possibly pushing it. He felt acutely aware of the stares aimed in his direction. There was anger from Gene, most definitely, but also a kind of unspoken fear. From Alex there was simply shock with a pinch of curiosity. Mixed together they made one formidable recipe that Simon wasn't sure he was ready to taste.

He shook his head slightly, trying to dispel the anxiety that their stares had started to inflict upon him. Instead he focused on Marci; the friend who'd lent him an ear more than once. Without Marci's advice where would he have been now? Maybe he would never have had the courage to follow his heart and his instincts. James would have burned in the fires of hell as Jim Keats whilst Simon would be spending his days feigning headaches to escape nights of passion with Michael who'd still be telling him it _'happened to every man'_ whenever he wasn't able to _get it up_. A great stroke to the ego.

"Simon?"

Simon was surprised that Alex was the one to break his thoughts. He'd expected Gene to bellow at him again and Alex's gentle tone came as quite a shock. He swallowed again to clear an abundance of saliva and looked at her.

"Marci's missing."

That was all he could say. That was all that really _needed_ to be said, if he was honest but Gene was going to need a lot more of an explanation than that. He could see it from the look in his eyes. Not that he didn't already _know_ that. To illustrate Simon's point, Gene snorted and prepared for war.

"I told you, go and check the dressing rooms at the Top of the Pops studio," he grunted crossly, "what are you doing here, Shoebury?"

Simon took a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a split second, almost flinching at Gene's put down. That was it, enough to make him see red.

"One of your most dedicated detectives is _missing_ , and you don't even care," he walked forward slowly, rested his hands on the edge of Gene's desk and leaned very slightly forward. With his height he cut a fairly imposing figure, certainly more than Gene had anticipated. It took him aback slightly; a beat missed before he gave his comeback. _Ouch, Gene, bad form._

"I care," his voice croaked slightly as he spoke which he chastised himself for. Maybe he was coming down with Alex's cold? Couldn't be. Gene Hunt did _not_ get sick. "I care that she clip-clopped away from the biggest op of the year, leaving us in the lurch."

"Yeah, and you've not bothered finding out _why,_ " Simon accused and found himself regretting it for a moment as Gene slid his chair backwards and leapt to his feet faster than Bammo seeking an opportunity to lob a water balloon in his direction.

"She didn't bother sending me a note to excuse herself from _PE,"_ he boomed, eyeing up a filing cabinet to visit shortly with the back of Simon's head as an early Christmas present but to his dismay he found himself cut off quickly by Alex.

" _Gene,"_ her tone was sharp and Simon hadn't expected that. He jumped slightly, turning to see her staring at Gene with a mix of panic and frustration on her face. He wasn't sure for a time which way to stare. Gene's anger had reached such a level that veins in his neck literally bulged and his skin had grown rather ruddy whilst Alex's expression reflected so many emotions that she looked as though she was on the verge of cracking. A night of barely any sleep after an exhausting raid had taken its toll for sure, but there was far more at play than exhaustion and all three knew that. Finally Alex looked at Simon. There was a part of her that worried about Gene lashing out at her for interrupting but she'd reached the end of her patience, both with Gene's short temper and with the strange air that had enveloped the station of late. Things were coming to a head. There was no hiding from them now. "What is it?" she asked eventually, "what's happened to Marci?"

Simon noted how pale Alex seemed. Her skin was almost pure white and her body lacked its usual strength and vigour. Her shoulders were slumped and her eyes surrounded by dark circles. If it hadn't been for those and a little lipstick she's have been devoid of colour.

"Alex?" he couldn't help feeling concern, "are you alright?"

"Entering the British delegation for the Snot Olympics," Gene interrupted crossly but Alex silenced him with one hand.

"I've just got a cold," she explained quietly, "that's all. I'm fine. Where's Marci?"

Simon let out his breath very slowly. He could feel Gene bubbling away in the corner with fury but he needed to blank him out for a moment. Alex was listening. That was one step closer to bringing their friend home and making sure she was safe.

"We don't know," he said quietly, "Jake and I were out looking for her all night. There's been no sign of her."

"What made her do it?" Alex couldn't wrap her head around Marci's behaviour. "It isn't like her."

"Yeah well, I don't think she's herself right now," Simon glanced around slightly nervously. Just to make sure curious eyes or ears couldn't butt in he moved backward, closed the blind over the glass panel in the door then returned to his spot in front of the desk. Dropping his voice a shade, he addressed Gene with a sincerity neither had heard before. "Isn't there something you need to do?"

Gene stared at Simon with pure disbelief. His discourtesy and subordination were sure signs that he was looking for a visit to Filing Cabinet Land.

"Yes; I need to give _you_ a bloody fist to the _jaw_ ," he blasted eventually after finally regaining the power of speech.

"Do Marci and Jake..." Simon trailed off and glanced behind him again, then lowered his voice futher, "don't they need to go somewhere?" He watched Gene's expression but it didn't change. "like, to the pub?" he pressed, "for last orders?" His eyes focused upon Gene's face, waiting for a response, hoping that he'd say _something,_ even if it were a threat or an insult but instead Alex was the first one to break the shocked silence again.

"What makes you ask, Simon?"

Simon's eyes turned back to her and found her with a stricken expression across her face. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

"Jake told me they've seen stars," he continued and all at once saw Gene and Alex reel as though someone had run 2000 volts of electricity up their trouser legs. He cleared his throat and continued. "Jake's as jumpy as anything, Marci's been knocking back her bloody pain pills to drown it out, they think they've lost the plot and _I_ don't _blame_ them!" He waited for one of them to speak, to say anything at all. Swear. Comment on his attire. Talk about the price of petrol. But silence greeted him instead. He waited for a few moments but it became clear it was up to him to continue, and continue he did. "How long have I been here now, Guv?" he spoke a little more calmly, hoping the name would placate Gene a little. "Three years, maybe? Give or take?"

"Feels like a life sentence," Gene grunted, but his comment lacked his usual punch. Simon could tell the difference. It almost saddened him a little.

"Remember when I first arrived?" he continued, "I mean, this time, not when I woke up in the stone age."

"Oi," Alex objected gently, "the eighties were my era, cheeky sod."

Simon appreciated that, He could already feel her on his side, and needed to carry on.

"When I got here you were going through this self same thing. All the same signs." He tried to read Gene's expression but he was wearing a strong poker face and the only thing Simon could learn from it was never to play cards with Gene Hunt. "Things were starting to fall apart, your team had been given promotions and were ready to move on but you weren't doing your job and taking them there -"

" _Simon,"_ Alex began with a warning tone, "that's not the truth of the situation."

"Malcolm and Susannah were seeing stars and hearing _voices,"_ Simon countered, "they thought they were going crazy, they stopped trusting you, _you_ ," he jabbed a finger in Alex's direction, "were getting weaker every day -"

Alex felt as though someone had sculpted a claymore from a long block of ice and run it clean through her heart.

"That was _very_ different," she hissed, "you _know_ that, Simon."

" _Look_ at you, I've not seen you this pale since Gene offered to cater your _birthday_ party," Simon cried, "I'm not buying for one minute that all you've got wrong with you is a cold."

"I can show you a pocket full of snotty tissues if you need the proof!" Alex cried, aware she was sounding more like Gene with every breath. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a very deep breath.

"Shoebury," Gene's voice edged above acceptable levels, "your mouth and Nicey Spice have something in common. They've both run away." He glared at Simon who looked ashamed momentarily but quickly gathered himself again.

"No, you're not going to get out of this one, Guv," he forced himself to lower his voice. He knew there were people outside and the last thing he wanted was to make matters worse for anyone who should overhear something they weren't supposed to know. "Guv," he said again, "no one hated this place more than me -"

"Ta very much for the stroke to the ego, thanks for your valuable contribution!" Gene wasn't sure where Simon was going with that, but he carried on regardless.

"When I found out I was stuck here forever I wanted to die. I mean, _disappear_ ," he corrected, aware that his body was somewhere under the ground back in the real world, "To not _exist_ any more. I felt like I was being punished. I had nothing going for me here, I thought for all intents and purposes that this was my hell." He flinched involuntarily at the invocation of memories he hadn't revisited for an eternity. "I'd lost Robin, or... Robin had lost me. But I was stuck here without him, and I was bestowed with this... _power_ ," he found himself glancing at his hands. The feeling of taking a soul was something that defied words and wasn't something that he would ever get used to. "This role... A job I never wanted and wasn't ready for. I watched people ground down and turned crazy by being thrust into a world they didn't know and I wasn't allowed to do or say anything to help them. They weren't allowed to _know._ I couldn't see the point in this world, Gene. It felt like a _cruel_ world." He swallowed and hoped Gene would let him continue before he thrust him into the canned paperwork behind him. "Then I saw it for myself."

"Saw... _what_ , Simon?" Alex prompted and Simon realised he'd disappeared into his own thoughts for a moment. Bowing his head he continued.

"I saw them grow," he whispered, "develop as people. As professionals. I watched them helping people and helping themselves. I saw them, happy." His stare rose and met Gene's eyes. "I grew. I changed. I developed. I got happy." He slowly shook his head. "I _know_ now, Guv. I understand what you do, what we _all_ do. I know my place here and I try to do it well. I screw up, but so does everyone, sometimes."

"Speak for yourself, Shoe-boy," Gene mumbled gruffly, but he was listening at least. Simon nodded slowly.

"I might not have been the greatest champion of your world once upon a time but it's _my_ world now too and it feels like it's falling apart." He closed his eyes, scared that starlight might glisten overhead. "I can feel it. I felt it way back then too. And now it feels like _de ja vu._ Marci and Jake, both newly promoted, both seeing stars; Alex -" he opened his eyes and turned to look at her, "I know things are different now but, _look_ at you. When are you ever sick? You don't catch colds. And Gene, you-" he bit his tongue but couldn't hold back the truth for long. "No, I need to say it."

Gene seemed surprisingly subdued.

"Go on."

"You're the Guv. The Manc Lion. We all know your... _quirks_. But your anger this past week has been off the scale. You know something's wrong, don't you?" he waited for Gene to reply. "Don't you?"

Gene stared at Simon. He could hear his pulse ringing in his ears. Every breath felt like a lifetime passing. He couldn't look at Shoebury any longer and turned his stare to the wooden worktop in front of him. How many years had he been sitting behind that desk now? And how many times had he been in this situation? He hated with every bone in his body to admit it but Simon's words rang true. This situation was familiar. He'd been here before. Ray, Chris and Shaz. Malcolm and Susannah. Outstaying their welcomes had brought chaos to his world. But this was different in ways that defied words.

"They're not ready, Shoebury," he said stiffly.

Simon tried to catch his breath.

"Then why is your world full of stars?" he demanded.

This time Gene met his stare.

"I don't know," he said in all honesty. That was a terrifying fact to confess. "I don't know," he lifted the receiver of the phone on his desk and looked down at the numbers, "but I'm going to find out."

Simon leant closer.

"How?" he asked. He didn't want to sound pushy but he wasn't going to let Gene escape from this one.

"We're going to start by finding Nicey Spice and go from there," Gene told him, "Bolly," Alex jumped as though coming out of a trance, "start calling the hospitals and I'll get onto uniform. Put out 'er description and get every plod in the five mile area looking. One way or another we'll find her," he jabbed a button or two on his phone, "can't really miss 'er, size o' those heels."

Simon's feet edged backwards, almost without him commanding them to do anything. There was a tiny hint of a smile breaking through and threatening to show but he kept it in check, for the most part. His heart was still racing. There was a kind of fear burning in his chest that he'd never really felt before and, to match it, a wave of relief that cooled it like iced water over a flame. He watched for a moment as the Guv's call reached uniform and Alex pulled her rarely-used mobile phone from inside her jacket pocket and began calling the local hospitals. Their voices brought a sense of comfort that Simon wasn't used to feeling, either. He didn't feel alone any more. The struggle of the night was dissipating. It had been a strange night indeed but just having all the biggest players back on the same page was a start. Finding Marci would be the next step. And for the first time since Jake's panicked plea hours earlier, Simon started to believe that was truly possible.

 _Game on._


End file.
